The Boundary
by JScorpio
Summary: Colonel Tavington,original heroine,Captain Bordon.William Tavington's fiancee, Karen, is startled by revelations about him. How far is too far when one crosses the line? Mature content. MUST SEE ILLUSTRATION DONE ESPECIALLY FOR THIS STORY-can find link to it on my profile page! Revised story/added scenes. 2012 Prologue has now been added on in Chapter 1 of this story. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1 Ambushed

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the movie "The Patriot", simply borrowing for this story.

**Character Notes:**

_Tavington, Bordon_, _O'Hara, Cornwallis_, etc appear physically as in the movie. (Bordon has been brevetted from Captain to Major for this story).

_Miss Karen Stirhaley _(original female main character):I conceive her as looking like actress Jennifer Ehle portraying Elizabeth Bennett of the A&E television channel version of "Pride and Prejudice" (1995 starring Colin Firth)

_Laura Pratt,_ McKinnon House servant (original female supporting character): view the "Patriot" movie, ball/party scene. The blonde on Tavington's right at end of this scene as ship is blowing up is how I conceive this character to look.

_Captain Wentworth _(original male supporting character): view the "Patriot" movie, deleted scene "The Heart of a Butcher" (not on latest "extended cut release). The blonde dragoon dragging rebel Rollins into the room is who I conceive this character to be.

_Banastre Tarleton_ appears as how he looks in the famous Reynolds portrait of him.

This story was originally written in 2001. I have revised and refined it (hopefully) and have added some more scenes to it. And 2012, the Prologue has been added to and included now in Chapter 1.

I hope you enjoy. Thanks!

PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO GO TO A WEBSITE CALLED "DEVIANT ART" TO VIEW AN ILLUSTRATION BY KELLY RAINE/DEVIANTART OF A SCENE FROM THIS TAVFIC. IT IS AN EXCELLENT, BEAUTIFUL RENDERING! This will not let me put a link in, so just type "Deviant Art" into your search engine, once you get to the website search for "Lepipsqeak" and view all the artist's work and you will see a rendering of Tavington and Karen Stirhaley from this story. I believe also if you type "you can't go you can't" into the search on the website, it may also bring up the picture.

**THE BOUNDARY**

(the Prologue is a bit of background on Tavington and Bordon as young officers in England before the war started, and Tavington and Karen's betrothal.

Tavington was a bit less stressed at that time. You will see him as a younger, light hearted young man before the drive for victory and weariness of duty and war overtake him.)

Prologue: A Young Officer's Happiness

_Late Autumn, 1775 – Sussex, England….._

The small group of soldiers rode along the dirt road, cutting a dashing swath in the countryside, looking crisp and handsome in their red and green cavalry uniforms. The group of young dragoons were happy to have a day and a night of furlough. The soldiers had just been paid and were headed out for some fun with that money.

The group of handsome young cavalrymen turned the heads of all the ladies that passed by. Not a chance was missed by the men to tip a head and show a subtle smile to the young women on the road.

The men were busy talking of the recent eruption of rebellion in the colonies. All mused aloud, wondering if they would be called to go. They were all excited and agreed that they would make the trip for the fight…..and the chance to see the new world.

As the group sauntered along on their horses, Captain Tavington turned to his friend in the saddle on the steed beside him, Lieutenant Bordon. "Miles, you are always so handy and charming with the ladies, why is it that you are not married yet?"

The affable, cinnamon-haired officer laughed. "I haven't found the right woman yet…at least that's what my parents tell me."

"But you've courted some very lovely young ladies," Tavington objected.

"I agree," Bordon said, "But mother and father are bound and determined that I am going to marry a woman from our social class with as much a fortune or more than what we have. I don't really have a say in it."

"So, you're rebelling by not getting married ?"

"On the contrary," answered Bordon, "I want to get married and have a family. Perhaps I could court one of Karen's sisters?"

"Ah, the last one left was just betrothed," Tavington informed.

"Damn," Miles swore. "Maybe I could challenge him to a duel."

William laughed. "And don't get any ideas about Karen."

"I still think that if I'd have met her first that morning all those months ago," Bordon stated, "that she would be my girl and not yours."

"You're probably right," William agreed with a chuckle.

"William, you know me," Bordon began, "Even though I'm from wealth, that I've never used that to judge others. And as far as women, I never cared about their money or social class. I just want a nice, pretty girl."

"Perhaps you'll find one soon?"

"I will probably fall madly in love with some beautiful little poor girl," Miles mused, "elope with her and get myself disinherited!"

"You are ever the romantic," Tavington commented. With that, William stopped his horse.

"I take my leave of you good fellows now to pay a call on Miss Stirhaley," William said.

The others waved good bye, leaving William and Miles at the end of the long lane leading up to the Stirhaley estate.

"And where are you off to, Bordon?"

"Ah….there are some young ladies in the village who desperately need part of my paycheck," Miles joked.

Tavington raised a suspicious eyebrow at his friend. "Bordon, the gentleman lieutenant, in a bawdy house?"

"I can retain my gentlemanly manner in a brothel!", Miles exclaimed. "A gentleman's money is just as welcome there as a thief's!"

"Ah…a gentleman in the parlor but a brute in the bedroom, hmmm?", Tavington laughed.

"No. I am always a good boy and never forget my manners," Bordon joked back with a smirk. "Well, have a pleasant visit with the fair Miss Stirhaley."

"Thank you. I'll see you back at the barracks tonight, or will you be tucked warmly into some pretty little bird's bed?"

"The latter, I hope," Bordon called as he nudged his horse away.

William smiled as he watched his friend catch up to the group. Tavington then turned his horse and headed up the lane toward Miss Stirhaley's house.

/

Harry Stirhaley was reorganizing his desk when he heard a knock on the door of his study. He recognized the voice of one of the servants.

"You have a visitor, Sir," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Sir," he answered. "It's Captain Tavington."

"Ah. Send him in, please," Mr. Stirhaley requested. He was a bit confused as to why the officer wasn't calling on his daughter. _Perhaps Karen didn't know he was there. Maybe she wasn't able to come downstairs to greet him yet, he thought._

William soon entered the study carrying his helmet under his arm. He was dressed as usual in his dashing red and green cavalry uniform. He nodded his head and smiled at Karen's father.

"Good day, Mr. Stirhaley," he said. Harry noticed that the officer's voice didn't seem as confident as it usually sounded.

"And to you," greeted Stirhaley. "Here to call on my daughter?"

"Yes…..I mean….uh no….well, sort of….." stammered the captain.

The elder man looked puzzled and said nothing, letting William find his bearings again. The young officer was obviously nervous about something.

Tavington took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Actually, Sir, I am here to talk with you."

"You are?"

"Yes."

William was silent for a moment, summoning up some courage. He closed his eyes and took a breath, then reopened them and tried to relax.

"Uh, Mr. Stirhaley," he began, "I'd like to ask your permission to propose to Karen. I want to marry her, if it is alright with your family, and if she'll have me."

Harry Stirhaley sat back in his chair a moment. He sighed, feeling relief and anxiety both, that this moment had finally come. The whole family genuinely liked Captain Tavington and wondered if he would ask for Karen's hand in marriage. They knew that Karen loved him so.

After a moment of silence, William began to worry. He had worried that the Stirhaley's may reject him as a suitor for Karen. Tavington was, after all, not as wealthy as the Stirhaley family or Karen's sister's husbands or fiancés. He had salvaged his father's business after the elder man had ruined it. The Tavington family flour mills managed to finally turn a small fortune again after his father had squandered nearly all of it. The captain, however, was unable to save the Tavington name and family from disgrace. He had hoped to redeem the family's good standing through his military command. Will had a promising future as a young officer. The Stirhaleys were aware of this.

"Sir, I have a moderate inheritance from my family," he began his plea, "and because I am an officer in the cav—"

"It's alright, young Tavington," Harry interrupted with a wave of his hand. "You don't have to prove anything. Our family is quite fond of you, as is my daughter."

William sighed in relief, then felt a flush begin to creep across his cheeks. He wasn't exactly sure how Karen's family had felt about him, and was taken aback to hear this from her father.

Harry Stirhaley sat stone faced and gave no clue to William if he would allow the proposal. Instead, he began a polite interrogation of his daughter's potential suitor.

"Do you desire children, Captain?" asked Harry.

"Yes."

"Many?" continued Mr. Stirhaley.

William became daunted at this question. Did her father want him to have as large of a family as _he_ had? Or maybe larger?

"Whatever the Lord gives us," William replied calm and naturally, trying to cover up his nerves. "I at least would like to have a son to carry on my name."

Mr. Stirhaley raised his eyebrows. "Oh? No daughters?" he remarked, somewhat testing the young gentleman.

Tavington knew he must answer this question eloquently. William didn't want that many children, but was mostly concerned with having at least one male heir. He did think that he might also like to have a daughter.

"Well, they would be a blessing," William answered.

"And a curse," stated Harry.

"Sir?" questioned William, furrowing his brow.

"You constantly have to watch and protect them so that they do not fall to men with lewd and ungentlemanly desires," replied Stirhaley.

William squirmed in his chair. He desired Karen because he loved her, _and was_ guilty of having secretly thought lasciviously of her. The officer had fantasized about what it would be like to make love to her. He had dreamt of feeling her naked next to him in his bed. But, Karen was a lady and he would not force her to shame by acting upon his feelings. Although, he found it hard to grapple with desire from time to time.

"Yes, Sir," Tavington agreed.

Karen's father went on. "I find myself wanting to castrate any man who would besmirch or hurt one of my daughters."

William, though innocent of his desires, felt a sudden ache between his legs. He also felt sick. Surely Karen's papa could not see or know what he had thought about his daughter.

"That's severe, Sir," William answered.

"Yes," Stirhaley said. "You will understand when you have a daughter of your own."

"Yes, Sir," Tavington replied. He was beginning to be sorry he had asked to marry Karen. What had he gotten himself into? Since he was not a father himself, he didn't speculate that Stirhaley was only testing the waters.

"Relax, Captain," he soothed. "You are nothing less than a gentleman with my daughter."

William smiled in relief. A servant entered, bringing the two men some tea.

After the servant disappeared, Harry Stirhaley pressed on with his questions. He just wanted some extra assurances from Tavington before he could consent to giving him Karen's hand in marriage.

"Captain," he said, "I'd like you to drop all pretense and formality and answer something. I assure you that I will not judge you or hold anything against you."

"All right," William complied with a nod of his head. Concern crossed his face.

"Tell me truthfully, how you feel about Karen."

William was quiet for an instant as his nerves now strangely vanished. He was able to look at Mr. Stirhaley with a new found ease.

"I love her very much," he replied, then went on. "I desire her the way a man wants his wife, but only because I _want_ her to be my wife. I love everything about Karen and care very deeply for her."

"What do you want from her?" asked Harry.

William kept his eyes locked on Karen's father. "To be loved and cared for by her. To have her beside me forever. I would like for her to be a loving and devoted wife and mother."

Mr. Stirhaley, true to his word, listened intently to the young officer's confession and passed no judgment. "What will you give her?"

"I'd give my life for hers, if need be," he said without hesitation. "I will give her love, devotion, and care. A stable home and income. I am not as wealthy as some men, but I want to be a General and feel confident that I will achieve that. As I rise in the ranks, that will give us some privilege and fortune."

Tavington took a sip of his tea, then continued in a very sincere voice. "No matter what happens, I will do all within my power to provide for and take care of her and our family."

"Captain, please be assured that wealth is the least of my worries when it comes to my daughters," Mr. Stirhaley remarked. "Trudy and I have never judged anyone by money, and Karen is the same way. Might I say that I am unconventional, wishing my children to marry for love and happiness first, with fortune second."

Karen's father drank down the last drops of his tea, then went on. "You see, I believe that marriage and family will persevere through any hardship as long as there is love. If Karen had to work next to you in a field or shop to make ends meet, and as long as the two of you are in love and happy, then that is what really matters. For marriage is forever, which is a very long time."

Tavington said nothing. He was impressed by Mr. Stirhaley's honesty. The young captain loved Karen so, and was happy that money was not a deciding factor when it came to their betrothal.

Another moment of silence passed, each man lost in his own thoughts. The quiet was soon broken by Mr. Stirhaley.

"Captain Tavington, you may have Karen's hand," he stated, "if she consents to your proposal. You have my permission to ask her."

William's heart leapt in his chest. He felt as though a weight was lifted off of him. The cavalry officer was very pleased.

"Oh, thank you, Sir!" he exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it heartily. "I'll do my best to make her happy, Sir, I promise!"

"I think you will," Mr. Stirhaley agreed with a gentle shake of his head. A smile crossed his face.

"Oh, Captain," he said. "You may ask Karen today. But, first, would you grant me a favor?"

"Yes."

"Would you please take my grandchildren into the garden for a few moments while I speak to my wife of this? I promised them I would take them for a walk out there. But, that was before this happy turn of events."

"Certainly," Will answered.

With that, the two left the study. William waited patiently at the door for the children, placing his helmet on the sideboard.

The children soon appeared. They were the young son and daughter of Karen's older sister, Melinda.

"Well, well, young Master Robert and Little Miss Anna," William greeted. The children bowed and curtsied to him. The three then disappeared through the door and into the garden.

Mr. Stirhaley had set this up. He was not going to speak with his wife of the marriage just yet. He wanted to watch how William acted around the children. Though Will had attended many family gatherings at the Stirhaley household, Karen's father had always been too busy to watch him interact with any of Karen's nieces or nephews. He was curious to see this now and would watch him through the window of his study. It was yet another aspect that Harry Stirhaley needed to feel sure of: what kind of father Captain Tavington would be.

"Come along, children," William said, walking toward the garden. He looked at the kids, each of them carrying a toy. "What do you have there?"

Six year old Robert showed William his toy sword.

"Master Robert," said William, "That is a fine sword."

"But it is not real like yours," said the boy.

"Well, you shall have a real one when you are older," William assured.

"See my doll, Captain William," said tiny four year old Anna.

William knelt down next to her and looked at the doll. "It is a very nice doll."

"Her name is Katrina," said the timid girl. She began to finger the dolls clothing. "See all the ruffles on her dress? And look at all her curls. She is very pretty."

"Yes, she is," Will agreed, "but she is not as pretty as you, Miss Anna. You are as beautiful as a little angel in Heaven!"

"I am?" she asked in wonderment.

"Yes!"

Young Robert crinkled his nose at what he regarded as silliness from his little sister. He quickly diverted the Captain's attention.

"Will you read to us?" Robert asked.

William agreed and took the small book Robert held from his hands. The trio sat down upon the garden's stone bench. Little Anna climbed up onto Tavington's lap as Robert settled in next to the officer. The officer opened the book and began to read it aloud.

Meanwhile, inside, Harry Stirhaley watched the scene unfold before him. William seemed at ease with the children. The man was now assured that Captain Tavington would make a good father to any children he and Karen should have. So, he left the study and went upstairs to find his daughter and speak with her of William.

In the garden, William was nearly finished with the short story. Robert leaned on his right shoulder, while Anna remained on his knee. She laid her head on the captain's other shoulder and was sucking her thumb.

Before William finished the book, he realized both children were against him. He looked down at little Anna, sucking away absently on her thumb. "Are you tired, little one?"

She nodded her head 'no'.

Will reached his hand up to her face. "See here, Little Miss Anna. You are a big girl now. Young ladies do not suck their thumbs." He gently pulled her hand from her mouth.

"She does!" exclaimed Robert with disgust as his little sister was constantly on his nerves.

William looked at his pocket watch for a moment, then gazed at the house. He thought it was taking Mr. Stirhaley a long time to speak with his wife, Trudy, of this matter. Maybe she was fighting him on the issue, not wanting her daughter to marry him. Will didn't worry too much, though. He knew that Harry, as head of the household, would have the final say.

"Come along, children," William said. "Leave your toys here and let's take a walk." The children put their toys upon the bench and took hold of Will's hands.

They walked for a few feet until they came to a muddy and soggy patch of grass. He held the children back from it as Robert dropped his hand.

The boy looked over at his sister. "No, no, Anna," he ordered. "You can't come with us. You must stay here. Mother will be upset if you get mud on your dress." With that, Robert began to walk ahead.

William started to walk after him, when he no longer felt Anna's tiny hand in his. He turned back to see the little girl with tears in her eyes, starting to sob. This tugged at Will's heart.

He bent his tall frame down to the little girl. She was sniffling now. "Shhhhh. It's alright, Miss Anna. I will carry you over the mud. I'm wearing boots." He kissed her forehead as he said this.

Her tiny, cherubic face lit up with a smile as the officer picked her up. She put her arms tightly around his neck and kissed William's cheek.

"Thank you, Uncle William," she cried.

Robert shook his finger up at his sister, clearly annoyed at her faux pas. "No, no, no," he scolded in his little boy voice, "You are supposed to call him Captain Tavington, not Uncle William. He is not our uncle yet."

Will did not like Robert admonishing his sister all the time. After all, she was only 4 and knew no better. She was just a little girl. But, William understood how little sisters sometimes irritated their big brothers. He knew Robert to be very intelligent for his age, but with little patience for his sister.

"Master Robert, must you always correct your sister?" asked William, as he held the girl securely to him still as they tramped through the soggy grass.

"Yes! Because she is little and Mama and Papa aren't here now to do it!"

The child was too smart for his own good. William sighed and rolled his eyes at the boy's answer, thinking him incorrigible.

"Young man, you are a handful!"

"That is what mother and father say," retorted Robert innocently. "Aunt Karen says that I am smart and handsome."

"Oh, she does now, does she?" William quipped.

"Yes!," the little boy affirmed. "But she says I am not as handsome as you."

"Oh?" Will questioned with small, but pleasant surprise. "What else does your Aunt Karen say of me, hmmmm?"

"That she is head over heels in love with you," answered Robert with no hesitation, and very matter of factly.

"Well, I love her very, very much!" replied Will.

"Then why don't you marry her?" the boy asked bluntly.

"Well, I'd like to," answered William, "but that is up to your grandfather to decide."

/

Upstairs in the house, Harry Stirhaley peeked his head into one of the sitting rooms, spotting his daughter as she worked on a quilt for a friend's baby.

"Karen," he father began, "I'd like to speak with you about William."

She was immediately concerned, noting the serious tone in his voice. Karen put down her needle and thread and looked at her father.

He began slowly and carefully. Harry Stirhaley knew that the couple loved each other, yet, he still needed to hear her put her feelings into words. He just wanted to hear her voice utter the words, to reassure him.

"How do you feel about Captain Tavington?"

She grinned at her father and laughed. "Is it not obvious?"

"Well, yes," he agreed with a smile. "I just wanted you to talk to me honestly about him."

The smile slipped from her mouth as her face contorted to an odd mixture of sincerity and concern. "Oh, Father, I love him so."

She sighed and continued. "But, I am distressed. We have been courting for a year and he hasn't proposed to me yet. I thought for sure he would have by now." She shook her head and looked down.

Mr. Stirhaley could see clearly his daughter's disappointment. He knew that she loved Captain Tavington with all her heart.

"Do you want to marry him?" he asked her without conveying that Will had just asked for her hand. He wanted to find out directly from her if this is what she wished.

"Yes! Very much!" she replied. "I long to be his wife. I love him deeply. I want to be with him forever. I want a family with him."

Mr. Stirhaley was satisfied now that he had given William permission to ask her. He was happy that his daughter wanted to marry the Captain. He was very pleased that the couple loved each other deeply, feeling this would be a strong foundation for a happy marriage.

"Well, then your Captain is worth the wait?"

"Yes, father," she answered. "But I hope I don't have to wait forever."

Her father laughed and got up from his seat. He left his daughter to her quilting and returned to the lower level of the house. Harry then summoned the servants and told them to set an extra seat at the table for a luncheon guest.

Then, he called back up the stairs to his daughter."Karen," he called, hardly able to contain himself, "Captain Tavington is here to see you. He is out in the garden waiting for you!"

Immediately after that, he rushed out the door and called out to the garden for the children to come up to the house to clean up for lunch. The children scampered in to the house to an awaiting servant.

"Captain," called Stirhaley, "Karen will be out to join you momentarily."

"Thank you," replied William. He stood for a moment, resting his hand on a tree. Tavington suddenly became nervous, not sure what had transpired within the house. He only knew that he had been given permission to propose to Karen, and the garden seemed as good a place as any to do it.

Back inside, Harry grabbed Trudy, Karen's mother, by the arm and ushered her into his study. He was grinning like a schoolboy at his wife as he closed the door behind them.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, looking at him as if he were crazy.

He took her by the hand and pulled her to the window. "Just watch."

Mr. and Mrs. Stirhaley stood silently watching out the window. They saw their daughter cross the lawn to join her dashing Captain within the family garden.

"William!" Karen called to him with a beautiful smile on her face.

When Will saw her, time suddenly stopped for him. He took her hands in his as she neared him. The captain brought them to his lips and kissed them both. He drew her to him and they kissed each other's cheek at the same time in a cordial and acceptable greeting.

"We are alone, Will," said Karen. "Mother and Father are busy in the house."

"Oh," he said. With that he put his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. The couple gazed deeply into each other's eyes. Then, they kissed passionately for a moment, which took Karen's breath away.

"Can you stay for awhile today?" she asked him.

"Yes! Your father already asked me to stay for lunch."

"He did?"

"Yes! I've already talked to him."

Karen was confused. Her father had just been upstairs conversing with her. It was only a moment after he'd left her that he was calling up the stairs to inform her of William's arrival. She brushed it off.

William took her hand and the couple walked quietly together further into the garden. Karen noticed that Will acted strangely and was very quiet.

"Are you alright, Will?" she asked him, squeezing his hand.

"Yes, I am," he assured her. "It's just….I ….I….I need to talk to you." He led her by the hand back to the same stone bench upon which he had read to the children earlier. The couple sat. Karen was worried.

"Karen," he began, taking her hand again in his, "you know that I love you very much."

She nodded her head. "I know William," she replied sweetly with a soft smile.

William loved her so, but was still very daunted at having to propose to her now. He knew it was a decision that would change both of their lives. The young captain couldn't understand why something he wanted could be so nerve wracking.

He took a deep breath and turned to face Karen. She could tell he was nervous over something. She reached out and touched his cheek softly with her fingers. Then she kissed his cheek, silently telling him that it was alright for him to say whatever he needed to say to her.

"Um…I have spoken with your father," began Tavington, "and he has granted me your hand in marriage." With that, William knelt before her as she was seated still on the bench.

Inside the house, there was excitement within Mr. Stirhaley's study.

"Oh, Oh, Harry!" Trudy Stirhaley exclaimed, "He's going to propose to her!"

Harry grinned and put his arm around his wife as they watched the scene unfold. Trudy put her hand on her mouth, excited over the situation. She was very happy for the family—and her daughter!

Outside, Karen's mouth dropped open in disbelief. She had only just talked with her father about this, and now here William was, proposing to her.

"Karen, will you marry me?" he asked her. Excitement and concern swirled in his azure blue eyes. "Will you be my wife?"

Karen took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Finally, the moment she had waited for was here. The words of acceptance caught for a moment in her throat. William squeezed her hands, which seemed to dislodge the words.

"Yes, William. Yes!" she accepted with a pretty smile.

Will Tavington grinned and jumped up. He picked Karen up off the bench by her waist and swirled her around in the air, both of them laughing in joy.

As he put her down on the ground, he put his forehead against hers and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm so glad you said 'yes'."

"Me too!" she beamed. They kissed softly for an instant, then William took her hand and pulled her behind a large tree.

Inside the house, Harry and Trudy were beside themselves with happiness. The atmosphere was jubilant as they hugged each other and kissed themselves. They were very pleased to have yet another child getting married. They were satisfied that Karen was marrying for love, and not for money. The young couple seemed so happy.

"Oh, Harry," sighed Trudy, "you can tell that they love each other so much. They carry so much affection for each other."

"Yes!", he agreed. "Theirs will be a happy union. As ours is."

Trudy smiled at her husband and gave him a peck of a kiss. They left the study, arm in arm, to begin preparing for lunch.

Outside, William embraced Karen tightly. He kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue into her sweet mouth. She accepted it willingly, and nearly swooned at the heart stopping kiss.

"Oh, William," she said breathily, "I can't wait to marry you!"

"I can't wait until our wedding night," he said mischievously, raising an eyebrow.

"William!" she cried with surprise at his boldness.

"Then I may have you as a man has his wife."

"You're being naughty," she said, playfully swatting his arms.

"I can't help that. I want you in my bed. I am in love with you!"

Karen looked shyly up at him. She was always captivated by his deep blue eyes. "I can't wait to be in your bed. I want to be your wife."

"So, you do have desire for me, hmmm?" William said, forcing her playfully to admit it.

"Yes!"

"Ah, the truth comes out," he joked. "You aren't such a proper young lady."

She laughed at him. "Let's go tell mother and father."

The couple then strolled hand in hand into the house.

/

The family soon gathered around the table inside for a bite of lunch after William and Karen announced their engagement. The dining room seemed full of happiness and excitement as the main talk was over a possible date for the wedding and the plans.

"Children, the Captain will be your uncle!" Mr. Stirhaley declared.

"Can we call you 'Uncle Will' now?" asked Robert.

"Not until the wedding," Mrs. Stirhaley said.

"Aunt Karen," little Anna said timidly, "Will you have some girls for me to play with?"

Karen and William looked at each other and smiled. "Anna, we have to accept whatever the Lord gives us," she answered.

"I hope it's not all boys!" Anna said quietly with a wee pout.

"We'll try to have at least one girl," William said to her with a smile. Even though he wanted a son to carry on the Tavington name, he was so taken with his future niece Anna that he wanted a little daughter just like her.

CHAPTER 1 Ambushed 

[Chapters 1 though 28 take place throughout the year of 1780]

_(Our story resumes in January 1780 in South Carolina on a river plantation northwest of Charles Towne… the war in the colonies is raging)_

A tall, bedraggled figure in a torn and bloodied uniform stumbled to the grand porch and promptly collapsed. British soldiers loitering there picked up the injured man and helped him into the house.

"Ambushed…..thieves..," the man uttered, fading in and out of consciousness.

At the same time, a young lady was downstairs in the wine cellar keeping the mistress of the estate company as she chose wines for the evening meal. A frantic voice pierced the cool calm of the cellar.

"Miss Stirhaley, come quickly!"

She looked at Mrs. McKinnon, the homeowner's wife, both sharing looks of wide-eyed question. In an instant, Karen Stirhaley lifted her skirts and bounded up the stairs, where a uniformed officer was waiting for her.

"What's the matter?" she inquired.

Major Miles Bordon gently took her arm, put his other arm around her back in a protective manner, and led her through the dining room to another stairway.

"It's Colonel Tavington," began the Major. "He's hurt badly."

They ascended the stairs in time to see soldiers gingerly bearing the injured Colonel around the bend of the landing. The couple followed them into the bedroom where Tavington was laid on his bed. Colonel Tavington's chamber, as well as the hallway outside of it was a flurry of activity. Soldiers and Dragoons were hovering around the bed in the room, as various other onlookers spilled out into the hallway, all straining to see the injured officer. One soldier ran out of the room and down the stairway frantically looking for a doctor.

Someone pulled a chair up next to the bed and seated Miss Stirhaley. The sight of her fiancé, laying on the bed slipping in and out of consciousness, uniform shredded and covered with blood, was too much for her to take. Her eyes filled with tears.

"William?" she said softly, leaning in over him. He said nothing back.

"William," Karen repeated. "William? It's me—Karen." She took his hand. "Can you hear me, darling?"

Within a moment, the army camp surgeon entered the room with a young,novice field medic, in tow behind him. Following them a few steps behind was an apothecary, toting a large medical kit. The three medical officers deftly cleared a path through the crowd that had assembled, a product of working in small,crowded medical tents and buildings.

By now, the soldiers that had helped Tavington up the stairs had already begun to disrobe the Colonel, tossing the uniform scraps to the floor. His white, ruffled shirt was shredded at the left shoulder, with a large blood stain surrounding the frayed cloth. The lower right front of the garment showed a ragged hole outlined haphazardly in crimson.

The shirt was removed to reveal a deep sword gash to his shoulder and a bullet wound just above his right hip. Both bled profusely. As the doctor began to probe and assess his wounds, Tavington regained his senses, thrashing and moaning in pain as the surgeon touched him. A cloth covered bite stick was forced into the Colonel's mouth by the young medic, muffling the Colonel's cries as he clinched it between his teeth.

"Hold him down," the doctor requested. A couple of soldiers did this as the medic and another soldier fought Colonel Tavington to get him out of his breeches. The doctor administered a very minimal amount of Laudanum to ease his pain and calm him, though he still fought the restraint. The surgeon began to work on his patient immediately, wasting no time. Tavington jerked violently as the doctor probed his hip wound to retrieve the lead bullet ball.

"Hold him still, please," asked the doctor again as he collected the musket ball. The man dropped the ball into a cloth on the table, then turned to the new medic, instructing and teaching him. "We wash out the wounds first with vinegar," he directed the young officer.

During this time, the apothecary had already gone to work, busy at a side table in a medical kit. A new edition book, Buchan's Domestic Medicine, lay open in front of him. He leafed quickly through the book as he hurriedly assembled ingredients from the medical case.

A pained groan escaped Tavington's mouth despite the bite stick, as he clamped his eyes closed and threw his head back in severe hurt. Karen, in tears herself, reached out to touch his face in an attempt to calm him, but couldn't quite reach it for the crowd of men around his bed.

The surgeon and medic cleaned the wounds when the apothecary turned to face the commotion. "Poultice is ready!" The apothecary then joined the doctor and young assistant at the bedside with dressings in hand.

"Next, we stop the bleeding," the doctor advised the apprentice. "The poultice is a bit of blue vitriol, ashes, brandy and warm water. I've found it to work well."

As the three men applied the dressings, the Colonel, still drifting in and out of consciousness and in severe pain, continued to resist. The poor officer fought the treatment…and death. The man struggled to loose his arm from restraint, as if desperately trying to find Karen's hand.

"Take her out of here," the doctor ordered. They were close to having to expose the injured officer's body, leaving the surgeon to preserve his patient's modesty. The trio of medics also needed more space to work in, especially in having to stitch the wounds.

Major Bordon complied and gathered the woman up. As she was being herded out of the room, Miss Stirhaley looked back over her shoulder at her helpless fiancé.

"No! I want to stay here," she cried. "He needs me! He needs to know I'm here." She struggled against the Major's hold on her as he insistently moved her into the hallway.

"He knows," assured Bordon. "But it will be better if we get out of the way and let them attend to him."

The Major had a gentle hand on her elbow still after arriving in the corridor. The door was closed behind them. The young woman, feeling helpless and worried, broke down. Bordon held her as she sobbed onto his shoulder.

"You know that he's strong," Bordon comforted. "He will make it through this."

She said nothing as she continued to cry. Major Bordon knew that the sight of her badly hurt fiancé had shaken her up. He stayed with her awhile and said nothing else, letting her sob.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Lieutenant Colonel William Tavington, now 30, was commander of His Majesty's Light Dragoons. He had been born into privilege and wealth. His father, Garrick Tavington, owned several flour mills in England. Young William grew up with the best his elite class could afford him, but watched all that wane as his father nearly destroyed all that he had built.

The elder Tavington had fallen into drinking, gambling and womanizing, plunging the family into social disgrace and squandering a sizeable amount of the fortune. After receiving a desperate message from his mother, he returned home from school at Oxford to salvage what he could of his family's reputation and fortune. It turned out that Will had a head for business and saved the family's wealth by selling off most of the mills for decent profits. He then paid off all debts incurred by his father, and had some money left over to retain some of the profitable mills. He steered this profit back into the family with some actually saved for he and his sibling's inheritance. There was also enough to keep his family's ancestral home and for his mother to be taken care of for the rest of her life.

William, an excellent horseman and good with a sword, found that King George needed men with those talents. With the purchase of an officer's commission from an advance against his part of the Tavington fortune, he began his military career as a Lieutenant in His Majesty's Cavalry in 1770. With the rebellion in the colonies, he traveled from England in 1776 to Philadelphia to fight for king and country. By 1778, a legion of Light Dragoons had been formed and the then Major Tavington had been asked to command one of these elite units.

Tavington was a fearless and natural born leader. Often he could be a stern taskmaster. He loved duty and despite some harshness, was devoted to his men. In just four years, he had moved from north in the colonies to the south and had achieved many victories. The officer loved the glory of it. And with glory attained with each victory, Tavington felt that it redeemed his family name from the bad reputation his drunkard father had brought to it.

Aside from his love of duty, glory, and his men, he loved his fiancee, Karen, with equal fervor. Miss Karen Stirhaley, 25, was Tavington's dutiful and loving woman, having never known him as anything other than a fellow aristocrat and military man.

Karen had grown up with the same wealth and privilege as William had. She was half English and half Irish, raised an aristocrat, though kind, humble, and caring, not taken to elitism. Many men wanted the privilege to marry her and get into her family. The Stirhaley family fortune, she in the third generation, had come from textiles.

Karen and then Captain William Tavington had met in 1775 in England. They had courted for nearly a year and became engaged. But, the young officer's cavalry regiment was quickly called into action at the beginning of 1776. He had to leave for the colonies so quickly that the wedding plans were scrapped, not knowing when he would return to England.

William, not knowing how long his absence would be from England, needed to assure that the Tavington family flour mills and business interests would have sufficient funds to stay afloat. The young officer and his mother entered into a betrothal bargain with the wealthy Stirhaley family. Karen's father, who liked William immensely, and loved Karen deeply, was thrilled that the match between the two was not only a match of wealth and class, but that the young couple were in love. Mr. Stirhaley was only too happy to give William a lump sum for the betrothal period to pad his family business' coffers and add to his officer's salary. Will's future father-in-law also gladly offered a generous brideprice to be paid on the day of the marriage. And of course, upon his death, Karen would inherit her share of the Stirhaley estate, to be shared with William and any future children.

After six months in America, Tavington, missing his fiancée badly and wanting her with him, had written to Karen asking her to join him in the colonies. It was decided that she could go without a familial chaperone because she would be under the watchful eyes of the aristocratic elite in Philadelphia.

Miss Stirhaley joined her fiance in Philadelphia, continuing their courtship and enjoying the social life the city had to offer its citizens during wartime occupation. The girl followed Tavington to the south, as well, when he took on leadership of his own cavalry legion.

In the four years that the couple had lived and courted in the colonies, Tavington was so busy with military duties or gone for extended periods of time, that the couple still had not gone through with the marriage. They would look for time for proper wedding nuptials, but the war business just didn't seem to allow it. William's hands were so full of keeping order with the rebels that they couldn't find even a small window of time for a quick elopement. But, Karen never minded. She knew William was hers and would be her husband someday, and that was enough for her.

Now in South Carolina, the Dragoons were staying on a beautiful, huge plantation called McKinnon House, after its owner, Mr. McKinnon. McKinnon was a Loyalist who had come to the colonies 30 years ago and amassed a fortune in plantation goods, shipping and trading. Since he was 'too old to fight physically', he generously opened his home, grounds, barns and outbuildings to the English army. It was decided that Tavington's, and fellow commander Banastre Tarleton's division, would use this particular estate as their headquarters and residence in the South.

The many rooms of the huge, three-story English countryside manor house were home to Dragoon officers such as Tavington and his adjutant and close friend, Major Miles Bordon, a bachelor as well. Karen had her own room there, too, complete with an abundance of chaperones! Some other cavalry officers were lucky enough, like their commanders, to be able to possess rooms in the main house along with the McKinnon family. The rest of the cavalry stayed near the house, occupying the nonfunctional outbuildings and barns as temporary homes, or encamped in tents on the grounds. The overflow of English army personnel and whatever other humanity wandered on to the estate were put up in the canvas village as well.

A huge hospital tent was the center of the encampment. Nearly as large were a mess and recreation tent, and conference canopy. Small groups of various size temporary canvas dwellings radiated out from there, the smallest of them, the 'wedge' or 'A-frame' tent, made up the largest percentage of the encampment.

The whole area around the McKinnon's estate was teeming with British. The generals, especially Brigadier Charles O'Hara and Lord Charles Cornwallis, were staying on the next plantation over, Riverview Manor. Two miles of land and road separated it from McKinnon House, but was an easy horseback or buggy ride to get from one place to the other, or to have messages couriered back and forth. Riverview Manor not only boasted lands, barns and a spectacular mansion of its own, but a fort for the British Army Headquarters was soon built there, known as Fort Carolina, and would serve as the British nerve center for most of the war in the southern colonies.

The officers went back and forth between the two estates often for meetings, strategy discussions, briefings, supplies, etc. The road connecting the two plantations was heavily patrolled and the whole area was considered British, with the rebels choosing wisely to stay away, usually outnumbered by Redcoats. Even with a British influence in the area, groups, especially civilian, were encouraged to have some military escort with them for safety.

However, the cavalry officers, brave as they were, sometimes lulled themselves into a false sense of security, feeling invulnerable. Occasionally these confident officers would chance to ride the road alone, feeling safe.

It was on one of these rides that Colonel Tavington, returning alone from headquarters, was ambushed on the road between.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

"I will be honest with you," the doctor began, "your Colonel is bad now, and the next few days will be crucial." He was addressing the small group of four now gathered outside Tavington's room. Major Bordon was still there with Miss Stirhaley, but Generals Cornwallis and O'Hara had arrived from Fort Carolina after having been summoned urgently with the news.

The surgeon continued. "He has lost just enough blood to have left him weak. He is running a high fever now, which may take days or even weeks to break. We cleaned the wounds well, but there is always the threat of infection. There is a poultice of Indigo root and butter on the wound now to fight mortification."

After rinsing his hands in the wash basin on the hallway table, the doctor dried them as he continued addressing the group. "Keep him calm and quiet the next few days. He will need a lot of rest. He is in and out now, so I don't know how much he remembers of his ordeal, or what he will be able to relate about it. Sponge him down with cool water and camphor—hopefully that will help break his fever. Whenever he is awake, try to get some liquids down him."

The doctor reached over to open the door to Tavington's darkened and now quiet room. "I've given him a Laudanum elixir that will help with the pain and keep him peaceful for awhile." He led the group into the Colonel's room, where the young medical officer had cleaned up and was pulling the covers up around Tavington's chest.

In a subdued voice, the surgeon continued. "I am hopeful that he will come through this because of his good health and sheer strength. Why, the struggle he put up against us was incredible in itself!"

The group walked over to the foot of the bed and looked silently at a now tranquil Tavington. They thanked the doctor as he left, reminding them to call him when the Colonel was fully conscious for a re-examination.

"Shame. He is one of our best and bravest officers, despite his…" General O'Hara hesitated, trying to choose a word, " 'methods'. And the Crown needs him badly!"

"Yes," agreed Lord Cornwallis. "I want an investigation made. Where was the patrol at the time and how did those thugs get onto the property?"

"Yes, sir," O'Hara obeyed.

They heard a rapping on the door frame. One of the house maids, Laura, stood in the doorway with arms full.

"Come in," Bordon said as he stepped to the door.

"Begging your pardon, sir," she began, "Fresh water for the colonel."

The Major raised his arm, directing her through the small group toward the table. Bordon watched the pretty blonde's movements intently. She turned back toward the door after placing the basin and caught the officer gazing at her.

Though not embarrassed that he'd been watching her, Miles grinned despite himself. The lovely servant moved back to the door, stopping for a quick curtsy of respect to the officer.

"Thank you," he said quietly with a smile.

Karen sat down next to the bed. Cornwallis touched her shoulder and asked her to keep him updated on Tavington's condition. She was to call on him if anything was needed. Miss Stirhaley thanked him, then looked bereft on her fiancé.

"I'll see you out," Major Bordon said. He turned to Karen and bent down close to her ear. "I'll leave you alone with him, and I'll check in on the two of you later."

"Thank you, Major," she replied in a hushed tone. With that, the three officers left her alone in the room with her ailing William.

His long, dark auburn hair had been let out of the regulation fabric wrapped queue and fell around his head on the pillow. His breathing was shallow. Laying on his bare chest just above the sheets was the Saint Christopher medal that he always wore, given to him by Karen, to protect him in battle. She hoped it would now give some protection during his recovery.

"William," she murmured. She touched his hand and arm, then his face, noting how hot his skin felt. Karen bent over him to softly kiss his cheek and forehead. Then, she knelt on the floor next to his bed and prayed, asking for the intercession of the Virgin Mary, and the Angels and Saints.

She began with the simple prayer dedicated to the Madonna. "Hail Mary, full of Grace," she began, making the sign of the Cross upon herself, "the Lord is with Thee. Blessed are Thou amongst women, and Blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen." Then she paused and looked into her heart, wishing to ask for the right thing, wanting not to waste the Virgin's time.

She continued. "Oh, Mary, most kind and merciful," she prayed, "you are the Mother of us all indeed. You watch over us and take care of us. I humble myself before you to ask for the life of my fiancé, William. Please heal him with your love. And, I ask you to stay by his side as he recovers. I humbly beg you to intercede for him to your son, Jesus."

She paused again to dwell in silence then continued. "Help me to have the strength to accept whatever fate comes of this. I sacrifice willingly anything you want of me for your intercession and help. This I pray, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

She pulled her Rosary beads from the pocket of her skirt, and began the Rosary prayer, offering it up for the intended recovery of her William.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Within moments of meeting with the surgeon, Major Bordon had gathered the men of Tavington's legion together. He stood on the steps of the side veranda as he addressed the soldiers. The aide-de-camp gave a short account of what had happened to their leader and the prognosis for his recovery.

"So, as a result of the Colonel's misfortune," he continued addressing the assembly, "I've inherited the command of this brigade—temporarily. That now makes Captain Wentworth your second in command, and Lieutenant Kidwell here is provisional third in charge."

Just then as he spoke, he noticed a wisp of light blue brush past behind the group. He could see the pale skirt floating on the breeze as the woman passed. Bordon knew right away that it was Laura, the pretty house maid, on her way to the well just steps beyond the assembly of cavalrymen. His eyes instinctively followed her.

The Major averted his gaze back to the circle of soldiers, trying to finish his speech. "So, we're not only short men, but now missing an officer." His eyes moved back toward the well, spotting Laura as she filled a water bucket. He continued addressing the cavalry as his eyes stared at the servant.

"Since we're short…..duties may have to be…" the officer's voice trailed off as he continued to watch the lovely blonde at the well. Again, she caught the major staring at her as she turned and picked up her bucket to leave. The corners of his mouth turned up faintly into a soft smile as he watched the girl depart.

The sound of Captain Wentworth clearing his throat brought him from distraction. "Major?"

"Sorry. What was I saying?" Major Bordon was unaware that all of his underlings had just seen him studying the pretty servant.

One of the soldiers spoke up with a comment that wouldn't have been as freely said around Lieutenant Colonel Tavington. "Do those extra duties include noticing all the pretty wenches about?"

Major Bordon was able to laugh at the comment, knowing he'd just been caught—again— staring at Laura. "Yes. Always!"

The group laughed at the comment. They knew they could joke about some with Major Bordon and were glad to let their guard down a bit.

"She is a pretty little bird, isn't she?" asked another soldier.

With this comment, all the men turned to look at the girl as she walked toward the stables. Just then, Laura turned back to look at her favorite cavalry officer, Major Bordon, but was met with the stares of all the men. Startled and embarrassed to be ogled, she quickly turned her head the opposite direction and scurried toward the kitchen building. This caused a low roar of laughter from the group.

"Remember yourselves, gentlemen", Major Bordon admonished lightheartedly, smiling at the assembly.

The new commander directed talk back to the matter at hand. "Be assured that I'll inquire about picking up a couple of Tory recruits. Until then, be prepared for extra duties to arise." He bowed his head respectfully to the men. "Dismissed."

The men dispersed, leaving the three officers at the foot of the porch. The two junior officers bid farewell to their new commander, leaving him alone.

He stood there for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to Miss Laura Pratt, the servant, as he recalled the men's comments about her. The officer agreed with them, murmuring to himself. "Yes…she _is _a pretty little thing."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

The morning after the accident, a sleeping Karen was awakened by a delirious Colonel Tavington. In his fever, he ranted incoherently about his weapons and his horse. The officer next raved on disjointedly about battles and places. William muttered the names of some of his men, as if calling roll. Crying out for Karen, he began to flail on the bed, his arms especially reaching into the air for something.

"I'm here, William," she answered. He didn't answer back or open his eyes. Karen dipped a cloth in the cool, fresh water brought in by a servant only recently as she slept. She wrung it out and began to sponge Tavington's arms, neck, and face. She put another cold compress on his forehead. This seemed to soothe the man, making him still for the present.

Miss Stirhaley, relieved that he was calm again, relaxed back into her chair. She promptly dozed off, only to be awakened a short time later by Tavington thrashing about on his bed, knocking the compress from his forehead. His jerking became so violent that she thought he would throw himself off the bed. Karen rightfully feared that his freshly sewn wounds would open. And worse, that his body was expending precious energy that was needed for recovery.

Alarmed, she ran to the door and called down the hallway for Major Bordon. Not waiting for an answer, the girl ducked back into William's chamber. In a panic, she threw the window open and shouted outside for the aide-de-camp.

The second in command heard her frantic cries from the stable where he stood. Bordon quickly ran to the house and up the stairs. Once in the room he found Karen standing back against a wall with her hand clamped over her mouth— a look of horror in her eyes. She was fearful as she helplessly watched her injured fiance flailing on the bed. The major took control of the situation immediately, knowing he had to calm _both_ of them down.

"I think he's dying," said Karen to the Major, her voice breaking.

"No, he's not," he reassured, "it's convulsions." He walked over to the bed and put the bite stick into Tavington's mouth. He then spoke some calming words to the Colonel as he put his hand on his commander's forehead. In a moment, the thrashing lessened, and Bordon motioned for Karen to come over to the bed. He reassured Tavington that they were both there with him, and put Karen's hand upon his forehead to prove that she was. This simple touch of her hand seemed to have calmed the injured man the most for the jerking stopped completely. Bordon found the wet compress on the bed beside the Colonel and replaced in upon his forehead.

After a moment of quiet, his body began to shiver. It never ceased to amaze Karen how the human body could feel so hot, burning with high fevers, yet leave the ill to shake and chill as though outside in the cold. "He's burning up," she remarked, feeling the heat from his skin.

"Yes," Bordon answered. "It's the fever. I know he's hot, but let's try covering him to see if he might sweat out the infection." The two then wrapped him loosely in all the blankets they found within the room. They both knew that the fever would last days or even weeks, but hoped that any 'poison' his body could dispose of would leave him in a better state with a low grade fever instead of one raging high and out of control.

The Major took his leave of her, letting her spend time alone with his ailing commander. Given Tavington's present state of illness, he thought that more than one person with him at a time may hinder his recovery at this most crucial point. Karen stayed with William the rest of the day, which proved to be a quiet one—more calm than that morning had been.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Sometime in the middle of the second night, William opened his eyes and could see, albeit blurry, his fiancée asleep in the chair by his bedside. He tried to lift his arm, wanting to touch her, but was too weak to do so. The officer slipped into unconsciousness an instant later.

A few hours later, just before dawn, Major Bordon shook Karen lightly, waking her up. The officer was concerned, feeling she looked nearly as bad as the Colonel from worry over him and lack of sleep. The aide-de-camp felt that he needed to get the young woman some relief.

Bordon knelt in front of her. "Miss Stirhaley, why don't you go to your own room and get some sleep. I'll stay here with the Colonel and I promise to wake you if he revives." She agreed, too tired to be stoic, and left the two men.

Once in her own room, exhaustion overtook her and she slept soundly in her bed for a good part of the day. By evening after supper, she was back at her fiancé's side. Another day nearly ended, another day of watching Tavington's awaited recovery.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

On the fourth morning since the ambush, as the sun rose, Miss Stirhaley had fallen asleep slumped forward in her chair with her head upon her folded arms on the bed. She awoke to a hand running through her long brown hair. Karen looked up to see a weakened Tavington, awake and alert, touching her head. She clasped his hand and brushed a light kiss against his cheek. He smiled faintly then grimaced as he tried to shift in bed.

"No," advised Karen, "Don't move. Just stay still and rest."

"I made it back," William whispered.

"Ssshhh," she quieted him, then kissed his lips gently.

"I was bound and determined to get back here, even if I had to crawl, " he murmured. "I wanted to die in your arms."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

In the early afternoon of the fifth day after the accident, Major Bordon sat with Tavington for a few hours in Karen's stead. She was making good use of the time to catch up on writing letters, and much needed rest.

Bordon had noticed that his friend and commander was unusually still this day. He leaned foreward often just to check that he was still breathing. Miles noted that this was the most restful period of sleep the Colonel had so far, stirring hardly at all. _It's_ _good for him, thought Bordon. _

A few steps from the bed was the Colonel's desk, where Bordon had moved to, taking care of some legion paperwork. The adjutant would look up with concern whenever he'd hear a soft groan from Tavington, wondering if one of these moments might be the one that his commander would become lucent. The adjutant concluded the administrative work and returned to William's bedside.

As the Major looked at his sleeping commander, his mind traveled back in time. He remembered how the two of them had met years earlier.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Miles Bordon, son of an Irish mother and English father, met William Tavington while attending school at Oxford University. Like Tavington, Bordon came from a wealthy family, growing up in privilege among the social elite. Bordon's father had made a fortune in furniture: seems the well-to-do had a penchant for furnishing their elegant homes in the finest of it. Miles had accepted that someday he would run the business and inherit the proceeds.

With the news of imminent war in the colonies, both young men were eager to do their part to help His Majesty. Since they were sons of wealth, their families had given their blessings for the two of them to purchase officer's commissions. Both were good with the sword and excellent horse riders, so they were encouraged to join the cavalry.

Both young men were disappointed when they were flatly refused commissions due to their religion. The men were born into and had grown up in Catholic families, their parents part of the minority of population in Britain still refusing to give up the old ways. Bordon and Tavington held out hope that they would find a way into the officer's ranks.

They soon found a cavalry officer near retirement who had amassed a mountain of gambling debts and now had nothing to pension on. Knowing that money spoke loudly, William and Miles struck a bargain with the financially ailing officer. He made them pay triple what the commission would have cost and would only let both in on the lowest rank of lieutenant. It was a high price but well afforded by the two friends. The old officer justified the high amount they paid as one third paying the actual price of commission, the second third to pay his debts, and the last third to turn a blind eye on their Catholicism. Tavington and Bordon just called it a steep bribe, but well worth it.

The two young cavalry lieutenants soon carved paths through military life. Tavington was quite ambitious, eager for glory that victory and heroic deeds would bring. He hoped to someday become a general. Bordon, on the other hand, wanted just to serve to the best of his ability, for King and country. He did just that. His qualities of fairness, loyalty, common sense, patience and compassion served him well, as did his men. He soon earned the respect of all who served below, above, and around him.

Over the years, the two men had become best friends and confidants, as well as officers serving together. And when Tavington was given his own light cavalry unit to command, he asked for none other than Bordon to be his aide-de-camp. As Tavington had been made a Lieutenant Colonel of the Light Dragoons, he immediately brevetted Bordon from his current rank as Captain to Major.

Both men proved to be good commanders. They led, though, in different ways. Tavington was more brash and impulsive, and had come into a fierce temper as the years went by. He was not given to much patience, and sometimes was stern and harsh.

Bordon was more calm and level headed. He had honed finely the skill of split second reasoning and logic, able to think ahead of consequences of actions, where as Tavington gave no care of that. Sometimes Bordon found himself biting down hard on his own tongue at some of Tavington's orders, disagreeing with them. Occasionally, he would speak up, challenging his commander, although taking care in what arena to do it in, not wanting to question authority in front of the men. Other times, Bordon looked the other way, letting Tavington run the outfit the way that he would.

However different their leadership styles were, both were trying to get to the same place: victory for England. As differently as they led, they were the same in other facets. Both were fiercely loyal to their men, although not as readily shown by Tavington as it was by Bordon. The two officers were brave and daring, which served them well in all aspects of military life—on and off duty.

They worked together well—most of the time. And whether the two officers were in agreement, or frustrated with each other's shortcomings, the two friends genuinely loved each other. Each would have laid down their own life for the other if need be. Their friendship of many years supported the two through the daily rigors of war and military life.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

A light rustling of the bedcovers brought Bordon from his memories. He anxiously sat foreward as he saw William stir and flutter his eyes open.

Where's Karen," asked William in a weak voice.

"I gave her the day off," joked Miles in a quiet tone. "She was going to write some letters, and hopefully, get some rest."

"Good. She needs it," Tavington replied.

The Colonel did not feel well enough to eat, but wanted a drink of water. Bordon helped him take a few small sips.

"Just rest, Tav," he said. "Don't drain your voice with conversation."

"I won't," began William, "I just need to say one thing."

"What's that," Bordon asked.

"Promise me you'll take care of Karen if I don't make it," he begged, "or that you'll see that she's taken care of."

"I will," Miles replied, sincerely.

"But that doesn't mean you can marry her when I'm gone," the colonel retorted.

Bordon laughed. "You know I've always said that if I had met her first that day, that she'd be my girl—not yours."

"You're right," Tavington reluctantly agreed.

He shifted in the bed, emitting a painful groan as he did. William then settled in again, as Bordon pulled the covers up around the commander's neck.

"I should have married her before all of this," William lamented. "I had plenty of chances."

"And you'll have plenty more when you recover," assured Major Bordon.


	2. Chapter 2 Relapse And Recovery

**CHAPTER 2 Relapse And Recovery**

Nearly a week after Tavington's ambush, the officer was conscious for short periods of time, usually long enough to mutter a few coherent words before weakness got the best of him. Karen continued her vigil at his bedside, only leaving when urged away by some insistent person or matter.

Late this afternoon, Karen sat by William's bed, trying to help with some of the seemingly endless mending of soldiers' shirts in an attempt to busy herself. The poor girl was so weary from worry and no sleep that she could not concentrate on the matter at hand.

She did not hear Mrs. McKinnon enter the room. The mistress of the house was worried about Miss Stirhaley, thinking she was beginning to look nearly as bad as the colonel—drawn and pale with dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Miss Stirhaley, I've brought you some tea." The McKinnon woman entered the room, carrying a small tray bearing two cups.

"Thank you."

The estate's concerned matron looked at the weary girl. The woman looked with pity at a forlorn Karen.

Mrs. McKinnon touched Karen's shoulder softly, getting her attention. "Dinner will be served shortly. Why don't you join a group of us in the dining room?"

Miss Stirhaley looked up at the well meaning woman. "Thanks but no. I can't leave him. I want to be here when he awakens." Karen looked back at her poor William.

The Grande Dame of McKinnon House wasn't about to give up that easily. "How about if I can get an officer to sit with him," she offered.

"I..I don't know," Karen hesitated.

"Just for an hour," Mrs. McKinnon cajoled. "It will do you good to have some dinner company away from this room."

Karen hesistated, saying nothing. She gave a doubtful look to her hostess.

"If he should awaken, you will be only a staircase away from your colonel." The McKinnon woman wasn't going to take no for an answer. She was determined not to leave the room without Miss Stirhaley.

The young woman hesitated, still thinking the proposition over. "Very well," relented Karen with a weary smile.

"Ah, fine indeed." Delighted, the older woman stepped back to the doorway where she called for one of the house servants.

In only a few seconds, the prettiest of all the McKinnon's servants, Laura Pratt, appeared at the door. "Miss Laura," the mistress addressed, "would you please find one of the legion commanders and ask for a man to be sent up to sit with the colonel? Just for an hour or so while Miss Stirhaley joins us for dinner."

"Yes, Ma'am," the maid complied with a quick curtsy, then disappeared down the hallway.

The estate's matriarch pulled a chair close to Karen. "Do you mind if I join you a moment?"

"No. Please," the young woman invited.

How is he doing," Mrs. McKinnon inquired as she sat down.

"He rested comfortably today."

"When did the surgeon visit last?"

"Yesterday morning. He's late today," answered Karen. "I hope he will return soon."

"Aye," agreed the mistress. "I will send for someone if he hasn't made it by nightfall."

"Thank you."

Silence fell between the two women, both looking at Colonel Tavington resting peacefully.

"Miss Stirhaley, may I ask you something?"

"Surely," the young lady replied.

"How did you get your Christian name? It's very unusual."

Miss Stirhaley smiled with a nod. "Oh yes. 'Karen' is a Danish name," she explained. "In English, it would be 'Katherine'. I was named for my great grandmother. She was from Denmark and also called 'Karen'. My mother loved her very much. I didn't know her."

"It's a lovely name," said Mrs. McKinnon.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Laura looked about the house searching for one of the cavalry commanders. She did not look intensively for Colonel Tarleton, instead focusing her search on finding Major Bordon. She secretly fancied the officer and took any job or errand that would put herself in his company. The pretty blonde maid had liked the Major since first meeting him on the estate awhile back. The girl could only hope that the man would someday notice her—without her making an undignified spectacle of herself while fawning over him.

Not finding any cavalrymen on the porch or milling about the main rooms of the house, she climbed the stairs to the second floor bedrooms. Once at Major Bordon's door, she knocked. There was no answer.

After a moment passed, she listened intently and could hear muffled conversation through the door. Laura knocked again, waiting for an answer.

The girl sighed. She rapped on the door a third time as she cautiously opened it into the room. She peered around it into the chamber.

At a small table near the window sat Major Bordon and Captain Wentworth. A large map covered the whole surface of the table, of which the officers studied intently. In fact, the two men were so engrossed in discussion over the thing that they didn't notice Laura there.

She hesitated at the door for a moment, standing quietly, gazing at Major Bordon. While there, she made a silent wish, simply wanting to feel the major's hand around hers.

Finally the two officers noticed the girl there. Major Bordon smiled when he saw it was Laura in the doorway.

Both men immediately and respectfully stood up from the table. The girl remained quiet, looking at the Major as if dreaming.

"Yes?" asked Bordon.

Hearing his rich deep voice brought her out of her longing. Before she could state her business, the Major shot her a sly look that conveyed _he'd caught_ _her _gazing at _him_ _this time._

Seeing the roguish grin on his face, she realized he'd noticed her obvious stare. Embarrassed, she bowed quickly to the two men, blushing all the while. "Sorry to disturb you. I knocked twice."

"That's quite alright, Miss," Bordon answered. "We were concentrating on the matters at hand and didn't hear you," explained the officer, his hand gesturing to the map.

There was another instance of silence in the room as Laura and Miles exchanged long glances. Their eyes toyed and teased each other where their voices and hearts fell short. Captain Wentworth noticed the subtle, visual banter between his commander and the girl, rolling his eyes at it. To him it was just another Tory lady noticing a British officer. He had seen the officers flirt with many colonial women—Commander Tarleton being the best at it—in his opinion.

The new second in command contained his irritation as he broke the silence. "Well, what is it?"

Laura snapped back to reality, remembering herself. "Oh, Mrs. McKinnon requests one of your men to sit with Colonel Tavington for an hour whilst Miss Stirhaley dines with the family."

"Where's Colonel Tarleton," Wentworth asked, preferring not to have been interrupted with this matter. He would rather Banastre deal with it. With Tavington laid up, the captain and Bordon needed to catch up quickly on movements and strategies.

"I couldn't find him," the maid lied.

Wentworth heaved an irritated sigh. Bordon could tell the new aide-de-camp was anxious to get back to Dragoon matters.

Miles Bordon, a few years older in age and experience than the young captain, knew that interruptions were inevitable and the best laid plans sometimes backfired. The senior officer had developed a long trough of patience.

"Captain," he said in a calm, but firm voice, "see if Lieutenant Kidwell can do it, or have him assign someone to it."

"Yes sir," Wentworth complied with a bow of his head. He strode out of the room, leaving Laura and Miles alone there.

The girl set about to finding something to busy herself with, just to stay in the room with Bordon. She walked to the bureau where she collected a towel and teacup. Laura could see Bordon in the mirror: first rubbing his tired eyes, then stretching his arms over his head. She could tell that the man was exhausted.

Miles looked at Laura, catching her looking at him in the mirror. The two exchanged embarrassed smiles.

"Could I trouble you for some cold water," he requested.

"Yes sir." She complied quickly leaving the room.

In a couple of minutes, she appeared again with a pitcher of water and washcloth. She noticed that the captain had not yet returned.

"Thank you," Bordon said wearily.

Laura poured some water into his wash bowl and watched as the officer dipped his hands into it. She looked at him as he splashed the water on his face. Then she handed him the flannel so he could dry off. He smiled at her as he handed it back. And as the girl returned his smile, her eyes sparkled with innocence and hope.

Unbeknownst to them, Captain Wentworth had returned and seen this last set of intimate, though innocent interaction between the two.

He cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Scott is on the way up."

"Thank you," Laura said. "I'll tell Mrs. McKinnon right away." She bowed hastily and hurried out of the room, the Major watching her departure the whole way.

Captain Wentworth said nothing as he chuckled inwardly. He guessed that the Major had probably bedded the girl. The whole business was a nod and a wink between the officers. After all, the young captain had had his share of colonial quim. He himself had taken a maid in the cellar of Drayton Hall while there on escort duty just a month ago.

When Captain Wentworth bought his commission, he had not been told of the effect that rank and uniform often had on women. The young man found it to be the most pleasant benefit of all. And of all the colonial women, he noticed that the servants were always eager to please the officers—in more ways than one.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Within the next two weeks, Colonel Tavington astounded everyone by making quick progress toward full recovery—considering his injuries. His fever had broken unexpectedly, as the doctors had thought it would linger for weeks. Although weak, he could sit up in bed for short periods of time with help. He also had an appetite, another good sign, and could take liquids and even managed to nibble small bits of soft, solid food. William was coherent during this time and spoke a little. He had total memory of his accident and was able to recount what happened to him in his fractions of speech.

Tavington remembered that he was on the road between Fort Carolina and McKinnon House, when he was ambushed by three thieves. The thugs had jumped him from a tree, knocking him from his horse. They stole his watch, money, weapons and his horse. And, because he was a wealthy officer, they beat the daylights out of him just for the Hell of it. In a sadistic manner, they drove his own sword through his left shoulder, pinning him to the ground like a displayed insect. He had been shot in the fight as well. Seeing the thieves run with everything, he pulled the sword out of his shoulder, slowly and painfully rose to his feet, and began to walk toward McKinnon House, hoping to get there before he passed out.

By the time he arrived, his vision had blurred, his head was pounding, and he was dizzy. He wasn't sure how many times he had stumbled, fallen, and struggled back to his feet again. When he'd finally reached the steps of McKinnon House,Tavington had been relieved to see his fellow Dragoons milling about there just before he'd fainted.

Everyone had been satisfied to hear from Tavington's own mouth exactly what happened. It answered a lot of questions and gave the officials information they needed to know. All were equally as satisfied that he was recovering rapidly, and hope abounded that he should have full use of his body again when he was finally well.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

It had been three weeks since the Colonel's accident, and Major Miles Bordon was still in command of the Dragoons for the duration of Tavington's recovery. After a two day absence, Bordon and the men returned to the estate. They had been on patrol and reconnaissance when they were surprised by a large group of rebels. The cavalry fought them off and drove the Colonials back into the countryside. But the skirmish had left nearly all of them with wounds, so they hurried home knowing it would be harder to fight another group of militia whilst they were injured.

Once back at the estate, Bordon was surprised to see the hospital tents overflowing. They were usually busy, but never this full. He saw to it that the first free medical officer could look after the Dragoons, then left. The Major had refused treatment for himself for he wanted the men tended to first as he judged himself not hurt badly.

Miles trotted up to the main house to check on his leader. Once at Colonel Tavington's quarters, he found Miss Stirhaley curled up in bed with her fiancée in an innocent fashion. She was leaning with her right side against the headboard holding William's head upon a pillow on her lap. Bordon was struck by how weary and depressed she looked.

Miles stood quietly in the doorway for a moment, feeling as though he was disturbing an intimate moment. He heard the Colonel groan.

"It's alright, William," whispered Karen as she stroked his hair.

The Colonel moaned in pain again.

"I know, darling," she murmured. She caressed his cheek lightly then kissed his forehead softly.

As Karen rose back up, she let out a tired sigh. She continued to look at William as she stroked his hair and face. A look of worry darkened her features.

The Major was always impressed by Karen's devotion to William. He had always considered his friend blest to have a woman who loved him that much and took good care of him. Bordon always held out hope that he could find a lady like Karen to share his life with.

Miles wanted to know how William had fared while he was gone. He knocked politely on the doorframe and spoke. "I'm back."

"Thank God," Miss Stirhaley answered wearily, relieved that the officer was there.

"I must apologize," she continued as Miles entered the room. "I am afraid this doesn't look acceptable and I am sure the whole household is gossiping, but I assure you it is innocent. And it seems to ease him, somewhat."

"I understand," Bordon replied, "and I'm sure everyone else does, as well. We know how sick he is. No need to explain anything."

His words relieved Karen's mind. She raised herself up slightly and carefully from the bed in concern, eyeing the blood stains on his uniform. "You're hurt."

He was bleeding from a sword slash on his left forearm and a superficial weapon puncture to his right thigh.

"Scratches," he quipped. He moved closer to the bed. "How's he doing?"

"He's worse now," she said, looking down at her fiancé. Her beautiful face was contorted in anguish.

"What happened?" asked Miles.

"His shoulder wound broke open and had to be re-stitched. The infection returned with a vengeance and his fever is bad."

Bordon removed his riding gloves and felt William's forehead. "Good Lord, he's burning up! Has the doctor been round?"

Karen sighed, then answered him. "Not for two days. A lot of wounded have come in from a battle and skirmishes." She looked sorrowfully again at William. " The hospital tents are full. Not enough surgeons to go around."

The Major frowned, then spoke up with concern. "How bad do you judge his pain to be?"

"The worst it has been in a few days," she replied. "This is the most settled he's been. He moaned pitifully all day. I've tried to comfort him." Her voice started to crack, as if she was near tears. After a moment, though, she steadied herself.

Karen maneuvered her arm and body slightly above William's to reach the rag in the bowl of water and liniment on the nightstand. She caught the floating linen and squeezed it out with one hand. As she dabbed the cool thing across the ailing Colonel's forehead, he raised his right hand and weakly fought her action. Miles gently pushed the commander's arm down to the bed, holding it down there by the wrist so that she could continue.

"Did he get some Laudanum," the Major asked, still restraining William's arms and watching her sponge him.

"No. Supplies are low," answered Karen. "There are wounded in the tents deemed worse than him." She finished dabbing William's skin and dropped the rag back in the water bowl.

Bordon let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. He, as many other officers just trying to fulfill their duties to King and country, were continually frustrated at the shortage of all things during this war. But, he quickly brushed away the irritation knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

"Did you try Brandy," he asked.

"Yes, but he couldn't keep it down. He's nauseated and lost his appetite completely. He hasn't eaten anything in two days."

William groaned another time. Bordon thought he was incoherent again.

"It's alright, darling. The pain will pass soon," she comforted. She carefully tightened her arms around the Colonel, wanting him to feel secure.

"Anything for the fever," Miles inquired.

"No," answered Karen. "I've tried to wipe him down and keep him cool, but his fever is stubborn."

Bordon paced the room for a moment, thinking. He knew William's initial speedy recovery was too good to be true. But, if he didn't want his friend to be incapacitated or plagued by this injury the rest of his life—or worse, that they'd have to do something for him. They needed to start some kind of treatment to help William until they could get a medical officer to treat him.

"Let's get him into some cold water and see if we can't bring his temperature down," offered Bordon. He got no argument from Karen.

The Major quickly summoned the servants. A tub was brought to the room and filled with cold water. The two of them gently lifted the sick Colonel from bed, Bordon holding him carefully around his upper body and Karen supporting his legs. William winced aloud as they carried him, despite their gingerly movements.

"He's not going to like this," warned Bordon.

Major Bordon and Miss Stirhaley lowered Tavington slowly and gently into the water, leaving his underwear on him. The instant his hot skin met with the cold water he feebly attempted to fight them.

"Oh God," she gasped, "He's going to drain all the strength he has!"

She leaned down to his ear. "No, William darling, don't fight. You need your strength to fight the fever." She stroked his wet cheek. "I know you don't like it, but it will help."

"Ah, let him fight," said Bordon. "Maybe he'll wear himself down enough to sleep better. That might be the only merciful respite he'll have from the pain."

After a moment, William settled down and quietly lay in the tub. Bordon took the opportunity to have the servants change the bedsheets while William was out of his bed and to bring in an extra blanket and towels to dry the Colonel. He also had hot tea brought up to the room. Karen fetched clean underwear for him from his bureau. She draped the blanket over a chair and set it by the fireplace to warm.

Karen and Miles gently lifted the colonel out of the tub after a few minutes had passed. They sat him in a wooden chair and Bordon held him up there while they both quickly toweled him off for he was shivering. After drying him, they draped the warmed blanket around his shoulders and stood him up. Karen stood behind him, holding his weakened body up as Bordon removed the Colonel's wet undergarments and slipped his legs into warm, dry underwear.

The thick woolen blanket blocked Karen's view, creating a makeshift privacy screen. William was shaking harder now with chill, Karen bearing his weight as Bordon quickly laced up and tied the drawstring of his knee length britches.

The two of them then sat him on the edge of the bed. Karen was behind him, again, supporting his body upright as the Major removed the wet and soiled wound dressings. Bordon cleaned his shoulder wound and bandaged it with fresh dressings. Then, he pulled the waistband of Tavington's drawers down slightly, enough to cleanse and re-dress his hip wound.

Karen crawled back toward the headboard and positioned herself there again as Bordon gently laid her shaking fiancé back into her arms. She held him up slightly as the major tried first to give the commander some liquor in a small glass. He would not take it. Miles then saturated a corner of a clean rag in the alcohol and put it to the Colonel's mouth, hoping he could suck on the rag and get the pain reliever that way. Tavington would not do that, either.

"Let me try one more thing," Bordon requested. "I'll be right back. I'm going to check what is in the herb garden." He dashed out of the room, then reappeared moments later.

Karen watched as he poured some powder from a small glass bottle into a cup of warm tea. "I was able to find some Valerian," he informed, sounding relieved. As he mixed the herb into the tea with a spoon, he continued. "This should help with the pain and put him to sleep." Miles put the cup to William's lips, and to the surprise and happiness of Tavington's two 'nurses', the commander took three swallows of the warm elixir.

Bordon and Karen said nothing as they smiled at each other, pleased that Tavington drank the tea. The Major handed Miss Stirhaley's cup to her so she could take some tea as they waited. They wanted to watch the commander for a moment before giving him another dose of the makeshift pain reliever.

Karen passed her teacup back to Bordon. He, then mixed a swig of alcohol into the Valerian elixir and put the stuff to the Colonel's mouth again. William took two more swallows. Again, Miles and Karen grinned quietly at each other in satisfaction.

Miss Stirhaley drank some more of her tea as Bordon mixed up a little more of the spirit mixture. For a third time, he placed the cup at Tavington's lips. The Colonel sipped it another time. But instantly, he spit up a small amount of it.

"Alright, alright. Too much of a good thing," said Bordon as he pulled the cup back from Tavington's lips. "We won't force anymore of it," Bordon continued as Karen wiped the Colonel's mouth with her napkin.

With that, Miles deemed he had done about as much as he could to do help Karen. He started feeling the discomfort of his own wounds. Satisfied that his commander was resting comfortably again, Bordon decided it was time to leave.

"Well," Major Bordon began as he stood, "I am headed back to the hospital tent to check on the Dragoons and get myself fixed up." He picked his jacket up from the back of the reading chair he'd laid it over.

"If I can get Captain Wentworth to relieve me tomorrow during the day," he said as he put on his coat, "I'll come back and sit with him so that you can get some rest."

"Thank you," Karen answered in a tired voice.

Bordon sighed. "When I get to the hospital tent, I'll beg for some Laudanum and a doctor to come and see him."

"Thanks," replied Karen in a faraway voice. Her thoughts and gaze were back upon her ailing fiancé. She looked forlorn at him, displaying her disappointment at his suffering. She was very worn down.

Bordon reached over, placed a finger under her chin and raised her head up to look at him. "He's strong," said Miles in a low voice, trying to reassure her. "You're the best painkiller for him right now." He smiled at her as she nodded her head.

"Right, then," said Bordon. With that, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, supportively as a friend would and coaxed, "Be brave." He padded quietly out of the room leaving Karen alone again with William.

For a few moments after Bordon's departure, William continued to tremble with chill, even under a heavy woolen blanket and a thick quilt. Karen held him close and secure for a few moments, until he became still. Only then did she drift off to sleep, relieved that William was resting now.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Shortly after 1:00am, the house was quiet and the fire in William's room had burned down some. Karen opened her eyes and moved slightly. William stirred a little as well.

"Am I dead," he asked in a weak, barely coherent voice.

"No William, you're alive," she assured him.

"I must have dreamt that you were an angel," William muttered weakly, looking back and up at her.

Karen looked into his ice blue eyes, glazed over in illness. She stroked his hair and his cheek.

"I've tried to be your guardian angel for two days," she told him lovingly as she kissed his forehead.

"Stay with me," he asked her.

"I will," assured Karen.

"I love you," he murmured in a weakened voice.

She put her lips to his ear and repeated the same words back to him. Then she kissed his mouth softly.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

In the weeks following Colonel Tavington's relapse, he continued to progress quickly again, though he didn't push his injured body, afraid of putting himself on his back again. His appetite and diet slowly returned to normal, although he had lost some weight. He was frustrated with his weakness, having always been strong and never having an injury that plagued him as much as these did.

His rehabilitation progressed from being fed, to feeding himself. From sitting up for short periods of time to standing. He gradually increased his walking distance and found his stamina coming back.

During his recovery, before he was walking, or on days after he could walk distance on his own but was tired, he would rest on the couch in the McKinnon's parlor covered by a blanket. As he did this, Karen and Bordon would 'entertain' him, usually with Karen on the piano and both of them singing.

They sang and played everything from traditional to hymns, but, they loved singing Irish music the best. Both Major Bordon and Miss Stirhaley were half Irish.

Their favorite was an Irish ditty that they thought fun to sing:

_Sweet Mary me Darling, the war clouds are looming, _

_and traitors are plotting to fetter the land; _

_I go on the morrow when cannons are booming, _

_To join in the battle with liberty's band _

_Fare the well, sweet Mary Mavourneen, _

_It grieves me to leave thee dear, bride of my soul _

_The Emerald island away in the ocean, _

_With white breakers kissing it's murmuring shores _

_With tear-moistened eyelids, I look through the gloaming, _

_And think of the pleasures that blessed us of old. _

_Fare Thee well, Sweet Mary Mavourneen _

_It grieves me to leave thee dear, bride of my soul. _

One day, as William rested on the couch, Karen and Miles launched into this tune.

"Really, now," Tavington protested, "Do the two of you have to sing this? I really don't like it when you do this one."

Captain Wentworth, provisional second in command, was with them in the parlor. He was near the piano and asked Karen why the Colonel didn't like this song.

"Oh, he says it's a 'pub' song," answered Karen. "He thinks it's not proper for us to sing."

"Well, I think it sounds right nice!" exclaimed Wentworth.

"You can tell he's getting better," said Karen, still playing, but interrupting their singing. "He's getting back to himself." She looked William's direction and smiled fondly at him.

"Yes—his usual foul and austere self!" Bordon jeered. "He's ready to take command now, right he is!"

Tavington sighed, exasperated at them both, then rolled his eyes.

The affable Wentworth made his way over to the couch. He leaned down to his commanding officer to make a comment.

"You know, Colonel," he began, gesturing his head over the direction of Bordon and Karen, "those two have a splendid lot of fun together. And, I've surmised that the Major may not be as much of a gentleman as he lets on. You'd better get well soon and marry her—or else he might steal your girl!"

"I assure you, Captain, that the Devil himself will be throwing snowballs in Hell before that happens," Tavington replied, absolutely deadpan. Captain Wentworth laughed then moved out of the room.

When the two of them were through laughing and singing their ditty, Major Bordon excused himself to attend to administrative duties for the Dragoons. This left Karen and William alone.

She looked at him and smiled. He looked like he was wearing down.

"Are you alright, William?" she asked with concern. "Do you want me to help you upstairs so that you can rest?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Um…..in a moment," he said. "First, I want to hear you sing something for me."

Karen smiled shyly at him then turned back to the piano. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear. She began to play 'Be Thou My Vision', and sang in her sweet, mezzo soprano voice to her own accompaniment.

William closed his eyes and sank back into the couch as she did. This always reminded him of the day they met. His mind drifted back to a time when they were both younger.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Tavington remembered when he first saw her—and heard her.

He was Captain Tavington at that time, and a soldier in one of His Majesty's elite cavalry units. William and his good friend, Lieutenant Miles Bordon had volunteered go on an errand to General Brewster's house.

The wealthy, retired General hosted a New Year's Eve party every year at his country estate. Brewster had been a cavalryman before he had moved to the ranks of General and moved out of the cavalry outfit. He took care to invite all dragoons, newer and older both, of the area to this annual event. Bordon and Tavington were honored to have been invited and eager to attend.

When the two young Dragoons arrived at the Brewster estate, they had found it in chaos, readying for the party that evening. Tavington and Bordon split up, searching for General Brewster to deliver a message to him from their commander. Walking down one of the lofty hallways, Tavington heard the General's voice echoing from the grand ballroom. He could hear him ranting about the piano tuner failing to show up and asking someone, as a favor, to play, then give an opinion as to the instrument's sound.

William had caught the man as he exited the ballroom and delivered his message. As he turned to find Bordon, Tavington heard the piano and what he thought was an absolutely angelic voice. He was entranced by it, so he entered the ballroom to see who was playing.

At the piano was a young lady playing "O Jesus Joy of Loving Hearts" and singing. It was his first time to see Karen and he was captivated! Not only was he taken with her voice, but he thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. The young officer was so smitten that he stood frozen and speechless in the doorway. As he watched the lady from the entryway, his heart skipped beats and his breath caught in his throat.

After playing yet another song, "Be Thou My Vision", he boldly approached her at the piano and began a conversation. The two of them talked easily with each other and were instantly attracted to one another. William asked if she was going to the ball that evening. She said yes and they agreed to spend more time together there.

At the ball, they could not take their eyes off of one another and hardly left the other's side. That night, Captain William Tavington and Miss Karen Stirhaley fell head over heels in love with each other. The couple soon knew that they were meant for each other and wanted to be together the rest of their lives. They began courting and within a year, became engaged.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

A gentle kiss on his cheek brought him out of his reverie. William opened his eyes to see the beautiful face of his fiancée close to his.

"You were smiling," she remarked softly, a smile on _her _lips, as well.

"I was thinking wonderful thoughts," he replied.

"About?", she asked.

"When we met," answered Tavington.

"Five years ago," Karen added.

"When you play those two hymns, it always reminds me of when I first saw you. I was captivated."

"The same," she agreed. "When I looked up from the piano as I heard your boots and spurs, I was speechless as I saw this tall, handsome and dashing man approaching. That was it for me! After that, it was hopeless. I was smitten!"

Both of them laughed and smiled. They'd said these things and talked of these feelings to one another time and again since they'd met, but never tired of hearing them.

"We were head over heels, weren't we?" Tavington commented.

"We still are, aren't we?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. He was still smiling at her. She was lost to his azure blue eyes.

William found her hand and took a hold of it. "Karen, you have waited so patiently for me and have put up with my bad habits," he said. He raised his uninjured arm and softly touched her cheek. "I promise you, we will get married as soon as this mess of a war settles down."

"I know, William."

They kissed deeply for a moment, then stopped, not wanting to be caught in a passionate or "inappropriate" kiss on the McKinnon's couch.

Karen helped William to his feet and supported her ailing fiance, walking carefully with him up the stairway. She helped him gently into his bed, for his wounds and body hurt him even more so upon rising and reclining, so that he could rest.


	3. Chapter 3 The Art Of Semantics

**CHAPTER 3 The Art Of Semantics**

After six weeks of recovering, Colonel Tavington remained bedridden most of the time, with short periods lounging about the house on chairs and sofas. He had returned to doing some dragoon paperwork—as much as he could handle before exhaustion would set in. William attended the administrative duties from his bed leaving Bordon all of the physical work of leading Tavington's brigade.

This evening, Karen sat with William helping him write some letters home, when there was a knock at the door. Both looked up to see the friendly face of Major Bordon peering into the room.

"Good Evening," he called. "I have some paperwork for the colonel."

Karen's smile evaporated into a scowl. "He's had a long day and needs to rest. Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Bordon. "It's important."

Miss Stirhaley sighed. She looked at her fiance to find him giving her a reassuring look that he felt well enough to deal with Bordon.

"Not too long," Karen relented. She gave her fiance a peck of a kiss, then excused herself from the room.

Bordon handed a piece of paper to his bedridden commander. "Tav, there was an…..incident….while we were on patrol two nights ago," he began apologetically.

"Incident?" , Colonel Tavington echoed in an inquisitive tone.

The major shot him a look that silently answered his question. Both men knew what the term 'incident' implied.

"Oh," Tavington answered, a look on his face indicating that he understood what his adjutant was trying to tell—or not to tell him. "Another episode of disorder to maintain order, hmmm?"

"Yes. Things did get a bit out of hand. I asked Wentworth to make a report of it." Miles pointed to the paperwork that Tavington held. "That's what he wrote and wants to turn in to the generals."

Colonel Tavington skimmed the report again quickly, only slightly troubled by it. "Well, we can't let him turn _this _into the commanders now, can we?"

The subordinate agreed with a quick shake of his head.

"You and I had to learn how to word our reports by experience," Tavington pointed out, "but time is of the essence here. We're going to have to tutor him a bit on the art of detail revision." He shot a sly look to Bordon. The aide-de-camp returned an equally as devious look.

With that, Miles strode to his commander's window, throwing it open. He yelled down to one of the dragoons milling about on the green. "Higgins. Would you have Captain Wentworth report to Colonel Tavington's room immediately?"

"Aye," answered Higgins with a salute.

Within a couple of moments, the dragoon's third officer appeared in the doorway. Tavington motioned the young man in, gesturing for him to close the door behind him.

"Captain, the colonel has had a chance to peruse the outline you've written about the unfortunate occurrence earlier this week in Cascadia," Major Bordon presented.

"Yes sir," Wentworth answered.

"Captain, you can not submit this report as it stands to the Generals," Tavington declared.

"Why not?," the young captain queried. "It's an honest account of what happened."

Wentworth was met with silence from his two commanders, who stared at him with poker faces. He wasn't sure what they were thinking, but soon realized that his challenge may have come across as a little bold.

"With all due respect," he added, remembering himself and his place in the order of leadership, "I reported in truth to the best of my memory."

"Yes, we know that you did and have come to expect nothing less from you," Bordon replied, "But it's not appropriate."

"Not appropriate, sir?"

"No," Tavington confirmed. "The Generals wouldn't understand your report"

"With regards, Sir, what's not to understand?" questioned the captain.

"Well, the generals may become….confused…when reading it," Tavington explained, choosing his words carefully. He could not come out and say plainly that they would be absolutely irate after reading it.

Wentworth was taken aback. A quizzical look crossed his face. "But it's plain as day, sir," he protested. "I detailed it as accurately as I could."

The junior officer looked at Miles, pleading his case. "I had to. Major Bordon, you heard that woman! She threatened to report us to the authorities."

"I _had_ to relate our side of the story," he stated, still justifying what he had written.

"Well, it needs to be written in more….acceptable….terms," Bordon advised.

"Sir?" Captain Wentworth was now absolutely confused and flustered. He felt that he had written the report to the best of his ability. The officer couldn't understand or fathom what his commanders wanted.

Colonel Tavington saw Wentworth's frustration and understood it as well. He'd experienced the same before. "Calm down, captain," William cajoled. "It's not a bad report; it just needs some corrections."

"Please sit down," requested the major sympathetically as he motioned for the third officer to sit at Tavington's desk.

"Captain," Tavington began, "Please read the report aloud and we'll advise some revision."

Wentworth settled in at the desk, taking the report from the major's hands. As he cleared his throat to begin reading, there was a knock at the door.

The door swung open immediately without so much as entry permission given by William. Colonel Tarleton entered the room with a huge smile on his face. "Anyone up for Faro?"

"Sorry, we can't now," Tavington apologized. " We're instructing our junior commander in the finer points of reporting certain types of incidents."

"Incidents?" Banastre questioned, looking at Bordon and Tavington. They both gave him subtle, impish looks without a word said. Tarleton raised an eyebrow and returned a mischievous smile, all three men understanding what was quietly implied. "Ah, yes," Tarleton agreed with his comrades. "Must be careful in relating the delicate details of such events. The key is to recall the episodes to the….best of one's ability. But, bear in mind that a number of factors can distort— ", the young commander stopped suddenly. He cleared his throat and corrected his last word. "Uh….I mean….affect memory. Fatigue, perception, failure of the memory," he said. He turned his back to the Captain and winked at Bordon and Tavington and added under his breath, "Possible loss of command. Threat of court martial."

His last words, meant only for the senior commanders to hear brought hushed chuckles from the trio. They understood the implication. Poor Wentworth sat at the desk ready to read, dumbfounded by the secretive actions of his superiors.

The commanders turned back, focusing on Captain Wentworth at the desk.

"Sorry," Miles apologized. "Captain, if you would please."

"Oh, yes sir," Wentworth obeyed. He commenced to reading aloud with all the seriousness he could muster. He began with the obligatory formalities of the introduction, then moved quickly into the core of the report. "Upon recommendation from a local farmer, we rode toward the village of Cascadia seeking out a Tory pub."

"Stop there, please," Tavington requested. "Would you please re-write that as 'area intelligence told us that the village of Cascadia may be aiding and harboring rebels. We decided to reconnoitre the area.'"

Wentworth dipped his quill in the inkwell, then put pen to a clean piece of parchment, taking only a moment to scribble out the revision. He resumed reading. "We entered the village at approximately 9pm. It was decided to stop at the village pub for dinner."

Bordon raised his hand, silently signaling a halt to the reading. "Uh…correct that to 'we observed suspicious activity around the Cascadia Pub, so it was decided to stop and examine the area.'"

Wentworth took another moment to transcribe the revision, the continued reading. "Due to fatigue and hunger, some members of our party had become unruly upon entering the establishment."

Tavington cleared his throat, then corrected the line. "We stormed the pub as a group."

Wentworth smiled as he wrote out the revision. He was beginning to pick up how they wanted the report written. The young captain read the next line. "The Bar was nearly full, but all patrons left soon after we entered, most likely fearing confrontation."

The captain looked up at Bordon, ready to take down the next bit of editing.

"The bar patrons were quickly cleared and dismissed," Bordon added to the growing list of corrections.

The junior officer continued on reading the narrative. "The Bar mistress became distressed, accusing us of scaring off her patrons thus ruining her business and profits for the evening."

"The barkeep acted suspicious, so the decision was made to search the place," Tavington corrected.

After amending that line, Wentworth presented the next one. "The barmistress upset at having lost her patrons for the evening, complained of the lost revenue and insisted she would have to charge us double to make up the loss we caused her."

"It should be duly noted that this establishment charged extremely inflated prices for their wares," Bordon advised as he cocked his head, smiling at his revision.

Captain Wentworth kept on writing the advised revisions in turn with reading the report aloud. He spoke the next line of his statement. "The men became irate at being charged double, and proceeded to ransack the place."

Tavington couldn't help but smirk as he suggested the next revision. "The bar was searched thoroughly for fugitives and unauthorized materials."

Wentworth continued aloud with the subsequent line. "The Bar mistress became quite agitated and belligerant over this. She was promptly thrown out the pub and tied to a nearby tree."

There was an instance of silence after this line was read until a good substitution was thought up. Major Bordon offered the alteration. "The barkeep was hindering our investigation and hence removed from the pub, where she was held in dragoon custody until completion of our duties, then justly released."

The captain hesitated before reading the next line. He cleared his throat and went on in an apologetic tone. "A few of the men locked themselves inside the establishment with the bar maid—"

Tavington immediately interjected the proper correction. "The bar was closed for the evening to continue our search and questioning of witnesses."

After scrawling the amended line, Captain Wentworth continued on the phrase he had not completed when interupted by Tavington. "—where they had their way with the girl."

"The barmaid was detained and questioned by several men to verify the validity of her testimony," Bordon suggested without thought or hesitation.

"Several bottles of liquor were looted," Wentworth read on.

"Contraband was seized and later confiscated," Tavington proposed.

The three commanders noticed that the captain was now smiling as he transcribed their suggested revisions, as if it were a game. They too, were grinning, for it was always a challenge to see what creative substitutes they could come up with—without changing the account to a total falsehood, yet watering down and softening the blow of the true happening.

Wentworth spoke the next line in turn of his account. "The raid and ensuing mischief occurred without protest from Commander Bordon and Captain Wentworth."

"Let me help with that one," Colonel Tarleton offered instantly. "Uh….the commanders felt confident in the men's knowledge of procedure, subsequently leaving them to the investigative tasks as we reconnoitred other parts of the village."

Captain Wentworth neared the end of his declaration. "We left the bar mistress, a very stubborn and rebellious woman, tied up."

Tavington deftly corrected that statement. "We left the barmistress in the custody of the locals."

Finally coming to the end of his report, he concluded, speaking the closing line aloud. "As we rode out, she threatened to report our activities to the authorities and spread word of our exploits all over the countryside."

Major Bordon offered the last of the changes. "We departed, feeling assured that an example had been made—that if you aid rebel factions, you will be dealt with accordingly and severely."

As Wentworth finished writing, he punctuated the end of his report speaking out loud the formal closing. "Faithfully Submitted, Captain Gregory Wentworth, His Majesty's Light Dragoons."

"You can keep that line," Colonel Tavington quipped with a rare smile, eliciting light laughter from the quartet of officers.

" With respect, sirs. If you wanted me to whitewash the report, you could have just told me," said Wentworth in candor.

" No," William refuted. "Decorum prohibits us from ordering you to do that."

"Nor could we simply ask you or even suggest that you dilute your account," Miles added. "We learned from experience that you have to word carefully your reports to the generals— "

"If you don't want to suffer their wrath," Banastre spoke up, ending Bordon's sentence. "It's bad enough if they hear of exploits by rumour. It's best not to aggravate things further by confirming it in writing."

"I see," Gregory Wentworth replied. "I think I understand the finer points of report revision now," he added with a nod to his leaders.

The captain stood up from the desk and stretched. He felt a bit impish for he was now in on the joke with his commanders. "So let me make sure I have this correct."

"Yes," Miles replied.

"If I were to disclose that I had the Drayton's pretty little housemaid—"

"You would rephrase that as you 'held her for questioning' ", Bordon offered, causing a huge burst of laughter from all four officers.

"And when was this," Colonel Tarleton questioned deviously. He crossed his arms as he sat backwards on the edge of the table, waiting for the answer.

Most of the cavalrymen at McKinnon House had noticed the prettiest of Mrs. Drayton's servants who usually accompanied the woman when she would come calling on Mrs McKinnon. So, of course, the men were anxious to hear all about it.

Captain Wentworth suddenly lost his smile, sorry now that he attempted to joke about with his superiors. Realizing he'd opened a can of worms, he looked at Bordon and Tavington for help to get him out of answering Commander Tarleton's question, but they didn't budge. They looked silently at him, waiting with Banastre for the answer.

Tarleton was having fun putting the young aide-de-camp on the spot. "I order you to answer that question,Captain. And don't leave out any details."

"Um…well…it was about a month ago," Wentworth stammered. "I was on escort duty, accompanying Mr. McKinnon to Drayton Hall. While waiting on him to finish his business with Mr. Drayton, the girl gave me a tour of the house. I took her in the cellar."

Banastre, obviously pleased with the dirty details, grinned salaciously. He tipped his head in respect to Wentworth and declared, "Well done, Captain!"

"Cheers, mate," Bordon said, simply.

Colonel Tavington shook his head. He marveled at how Tarleton never missed a detail when women were concerned. "Ban, you are an incorrigible fiend!"

Bordon, anxious to take up Colonel Tarleton's offer for a game of cards, wrapped up the administrative duties quickly. "Thank you for revising your report. You're dismissed," he said to Wentworth.

The young Captain handed the amended report to Major Bordon, then stepped toward the door. As he made his way there, he couldn't help but hear Banastre launch into a new conversation.

"Say, do you two remember the McKinnons beauty of a niece, Miss Downey?"

"Who could forget her," Miles remarked. "_All_ the soldiers here noticed that goddess of a woman."

" Well, I just heard the missus tell one of the servants to make ready for she returns this week for another visit," Banastre announced. "And it is my mission to chat her up and be the first one here to get beneath her skirt."

Upon hearing that remark, Captain Wentworth stopped suddenly at the door. He turned back to the three commanding officers before departing. "Uh, begging your pardons, Sirs. But I have already…..interrogated…..the woman in question three times during her last visit." The junior officer had to fight to keep from smirking, pleased that he had outdone the expert womanizer Tarleton.

The three dragoon leaders were speechless. Major Bordon and Colonel Tavington were utterly amused at what the young man just said, and thought it hilarious that the youthful subordinate had bested their fellow colonel. Both fought back laughter.

Tarleton, on the other hand, was shocked at the revelation. He sank like a deflating balloon. The irrepressible ladies man was astounded that the young man had made it into Miss Downey's bed before he could. Ban remained dumbfounded and unable to respond, looking blindly at the floor in disbelief.

Colonel Tavington cleared his throat in an attempt to keep from snickering. "Uh, that will be all, Captain."

Captain Wentworth exited, leaving the three superiors alone, still stunned.

After a moment, Bordon was unable to supress a sardonic grin. He spoke up. "Well, our young captain is learning quickly."

A crooked smile of satisfaction crossed William's face. "Yes. But I find that he isn't _quite_ the braggadocio that _some_ officers are," he agreed with wittiness. "Seems to have a quiet way about him, doesn't he?" He arched one eyebrow up, knowing that Bordon was playing along and awaiting a clever answer.

Miles did not disappoint, adding, "Seems to favor the subtle side of conquest."

Tavington looked at Banastre, who was still silent with disappointment of not being the first to have the Downey woman. "You look like you are in need of a drink, Banny."


	4. Chapter 4 Nothing Without You

**CHAPTER 4 Nothing Without You **

_I once had a true love and I loved him so well _

_I loved him far better that my tongue can tell _

_My true love he spoke and to me he did say _

_It won't be long, now, love, 'til our wedding day _

_--from "Our Wedding Day" an Irish Ballad _

_Songs of the People, Sam Henry _

In the two months since Colonel Tavington's unfortunate accident, he was up and around, walking the estate and riding little by little each day, increasing his stamina. His arm was recently taken out of its sling and his shoulder was healing nicely. The bullet wound to his hip was slower to mend, nagging him, but he knew it would be a matter of time.

This day, he was walking and feeling exhausted, thinking he had overdone his self imposed rehabilitation in the preceding days. William walked slowly and stiffly with Miss Stirhaley at his side. She noticed that he didn't seem as mobile today as he had been and this caused her small worry that his healing was digressing instead progressing. He mentioned that his shoulder was still sore.

The Colonel was dressed in his red and green Dragoon uniform, with regulation black riding breeches and boots. But, he wore it very casually today, which was unlike him, but better to suit his injuries. His jacket and vest were both hanging unbuttoned. He wore no cravat around his neck and the ruffled collar of his shirt peaked out around the edge of his green coat. He had insisted on putting the uniform on every day that he was up and out of bed.

Karen wore a simple, light grey dress, with scoop circular collar plunging low to show ample cleavage. Her hair was down, pulled back from her face with ringlets of brown curls cascading down her back. William loved her hair down and loose.

The couple was now far from the other plantation dwellers and guests, sauntering in their favorite place, feeling as if in their own world. They strolled hand in hand by a rushing, crystal clear brook with water cold as ice. Some moments found them conversing while other minutes they were both silent, listening to the relaxing sound of the water.

Karen turned serious for a moment, forsaking the sound of soothing water. "Will, I don't think we should wait any longer to get married."

"I know," answered Tavington, "and you've been so good to wait for me these years and have not once complained. We'll do it as soon as we can, but with the war—"

"What if something happens to you," she interrupted.

"Nothing will happen," William assured her. "It hasn't yet. I'm a good fighter."

Miss Stirhaley nodded in agreement with him and said nothing. She would change the subject—no use trying to fight the importance of his involvement in this war.

Karen let go of the Colonel's hand and walked to the edge of the water. The brook, which originated from an underground spring, with its constantly chilled water, kept the immediate area around the banks of it cool, as if walking into an icehouse. She shivered noticeably and crossed her arms in front of herself to warm up. Tavington came up behind her and slipped his arms around her torso as she faced away from him, looking out over the water. With her in his arms, he moved his hands up and down her folded arms, trying to warm her.

She laid her head back on his chest and said, "It's always so cold here." She'd made that comment many times before.

"Yes. It's the spring," he replied.

"Isn't there a better reason than that," she sighed dreamily, conveying the all too human trait of wanting to hear something more poetic.

Tavington laughed quietly. "Alright. The real reason it is always cold here is because this place is for lovers. The icy temperature is so that a man will have a good excuse to put his arms around his woman." His lips brushed against her cheek as he tightened his arms about her, which brought a smile to her beautiful face. He held her there for a moment.

Karen adored his ability to let his guard down and be so freely and unabashedly romantic with her. Yet, she admired his utmost professionalism with his commanders and his men. The line between the two was never blurred. She loved him deeply for both of these traits.

"Yes," she agreed, "quite gallant of a gentleman to keep his lady warm." The Colonel was nuzzling her ear, which both tickled and delighted her.

"Yes…..Quite," he murmured, his voice airy and muffled by her neck and hair. After a moment of shared reverie, Tavington's words brought them momentarily back to the present as he changed the subject.

"Tomorrow I resume duty with the Dragoons, though not regular," he announced. "I've given myself an abbreviated patrol assignment—"

"So soon," exclaimed Karen as she stepped out of his arms and turned to face him, a look of question clouding her face. "You're not completely healed."

"I know. But I can't stay away forever. I'm their leader. Besides, the doctor says that I've come along very well." With that, he drew his sword, ready to attack an imaginary foe, as if to prove a point. Then, he winced in pain as he extended his body and weapon.

Karen frowned in dismay and alarm at his lingering pain. "You'd better not let your opponent see that," said Miss Stirhaley, as she helped him over to sit down on a huge oak tree, lying on the ground, toppled by some weather calamity.

The colonel sheathed his sword, then looked up at his silent fiancée, who was looking at him with concern. After a quiet moment, he smiled at her then looked back over his shoulder, as if wondering if they were still alone.

Karen sighed and took a couple of steps away from him. "I'll miss you," she simply began. She turned to face him. "It's been nice having you here for so long, despite your incapacitation."

"Yes, but, I am anxious to get back to duty. I yearn for it so. It will make me feel…..regular…..again."

"And whole," she added, walking back toward him.

"No," answered William. He declared in the sweetest and most sincere voice, "I'm already whole. You do that for me." He stretched his arm out and took her hand. Miss Stirhaley let him pull her in close to him where he sat, placing her in front of him between his parted legs.

Tavington's icy blue eyes full of profound love for her. He looked into her eyes and spoke his heart. "_You_ are the part that completes me—makes me whole. Without you, I'm just some unfinished lump of clay. I'm nothing without you."

"William," she said lovingly with no restraint. "William," she murmured again softly as she put her arms around his neck and embraced him. With him sitting and her standing, they were nearly eye to eye, her now the taller of the two, instead of him towering over her. Her lips first brushed against his ear, then followed his jawline softly until they found his lips.

They kissed each other softly at first, then more deeply after a moment, each accepting the other's warm tongue. Karen moved to kiss his other cheek and ear. Soon, he felt her moist breath on his bare neck. A low moan escaped his throat as he closed his eyes. The colonel felt her soft hand on the back of his neck, below his neatly wrapped queue, as she moved her mouth back to meet his again.

After another slow kiss, William's mouth slipped to her neck, which caused her to smile and feel warmth. He slipped his arms about her waist letting one hand drop to her rear, kneading it. Putting his hand firmly on it, the officer pulled her in against him.

They were kissing a little more furiously now. Karen slipped her hands inside his jacket and lingered there for a moment. Her lips touched his cheek, then moved back to tease his neck. He sighed as she did.

After a moment, the girl slid her hands up under his loose shirt, touching his skin as if her fingers were feathers. Her hands moved up his abdomen and chest to his shoulders, being extra careful and only touching lightly his hurt shoulder. Karen's hungry mouth once again sought his.

William's hands moved cautiously to her chest. He tentatively touched her breasts lightly, then cupped them, wishing the material of her dress didn't stand as a barrier between his hands and her bare skin. They continued their kissing, alternating between frenzied one moment, and soft, gentle wisps of kisses the next.

Then his mouth moved down her neck, finding its way to the top of her chest until the dress stopped him. He lingered there, letting her feel the warmth of his mouth and lips on the very top and beginning of her breasts and cleavage. Tavington's hands dropped down to rub her butt and the out sides of her thighs.

William's lips found hers again, to kiss her urgently. His hands trailed up both sides of her body from her thighs and found the front buttons of her gray frock. He began to unbutton her dress, wanting to free her from the binding material as he kissed her wetly.

In a moment, he managed to have a few of the buttons undone. William put his hands just under the shoulder seams on each side of her dress and pushed the material off her shoulders slightly. Then his mouth kissed her neck and shoulders, causing her to coo and sigh. He hadn't undone enough buttons to release sufficient tension on her dress to make it slip readily off her shoulders.

The colonel kissed her mouth again softly and sensuously as his hands resumed their former task. With amazing control he undid more buttons lower down on her bodice, eagerly wanting to free her breasts from the confines of her dress and put his hands and mouth on her nakedness.

_There are too many buttons here, he thought. _His desire soon overtook him. William fumbled with the buttons now in his excitement, thinking of how close he was to touching her soft body. He tried to calm himself enough by slowing down and feeling each button on her dress.

Karen sighed and panted, her head back and eyes closed, eager to feel his wet mouth and his hands on her bare skin. The reverie of all this made her body tingle and relax. She felt her knees going weak.

But then, something made her remember herself and brought from her dreamy euphoria. "William," Karen said breathily, gently clasping his hands to stop them from their task. She reluctantly and softly guided them away from her open dress.

She turned and stepped away from him, still holding one of his hands. He held onto her hand until she stepped past his arm's reach, her hand slipping lightly out of his. Will's empty hand dropped into his lap. He looked down at the ground for an instant, then back up at her.

"I know," he sighed with a mixture of frustrated disappointment and understanding that he must stop.

Karen stood at the bank of the creek and closed up her bodice, becoming 'proper' again. She was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a 'safe' way without consequence to escape her virginity before marrying William. The couple had come close to sex a few times before, but had exercised restraint. This was becoming harder the longer they were engaged. She wanted this man, yet wanted to remain pure for him. Surely they could give in to the urge just once without any repercussions, she thought.

"William," began Karen, as she turned and walked back to him, "we do love each other. We could give ourselves to one another just once before we marry." She looked down shyly at the ground, nearly ashamed for suggesting such a thing.

"No," he said as he raised her chin with his hand. He wanted her eyes to witness his sincerity. "No. We'll keep that for our wedding night."

For some unexplainable reason within himself, it was important to William to keep her pristine for that evening. He loved Karen so much that he felt that he, and only he, would be the man to deflower her. Too him, she represented a prize won in a battle well fought—a goal obtained. He wanted to keep her virtue intact for that night yet fought constantly his desire to take her at any given time.

She stepped yet closer to him. As she did, his hand caught her waist and pulled her back to him.

"We might be disturbed out here," Tavington continued. "I'd rather our first time be in our marital bed. Then, we won't be interrupted and the act will be rapturous!"

Will smiled at her then kissed her lips softly. She smiled back at him, blushing all the while. Karen looked down then turned her head away. He kissed her rosy flushed cheek as she did.

"Will," she began, her voice laced with concern as she looked back at him. Karen slipped her hands into his again, her body still close to his, and looked down. "Carolyne says it hurts the first time." She raised her eyes, looking deeply and innocently into his for the truth.

Tavington sighed, closing his eyes after she'd said that, unable to answer her. He understood that some women discreetly shared that fact with each other. _No wonder girls are apprehensive their first time, when other ladies are filling their heads with fear, he thought. _

When met with his silence, she felt like the need to explain. "Well, I had to asked someone so that I would know what to do and expect our first time."

William's face contorted with disapproval in jest, as if to scold her for being naughty.

"Well," she cried still trying to justify her question, "she's married and I trust her! I didn't know who else to ask," She turned away from him, embarrassed.

Carolyne was a longtime friend of hers back in England who had been married happily a few years. She had thoroughly explained the sex act to Karen upon her request, urging her to accept everything gracefully that her husband gave her during intercourse, and to return the same actions back to him. Carolyne also explained that although painful the first time, a woman could receive pleasure from a man as well, that it wasn't just an obligatory act. She told her that the physical pleasure received from one's husband could scarcely be explained or believed, only that it was 'wonderful'. She advised Karen never to disguise her pleasure for the sake of 'being proper', for men enjoy knowing they have given a woman pleasure.

Carolyne's parting words about congress were that it was not just a physical act, but a meeting of minds as well, which deepened it, making it sacred. rtance, and that Karen committed her wise friend's words to memory and replayed them in her head from time to time, hoping and waiting patiently for her wedding day.

Colonel Tavington chuckled at Karen's innocence, which he found charming and endearing. Then, he turned serious.

"Yes," he answered her, "it does hurt the lady the first time. But, the discomfort wanes the more it happens."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open as he revealed this.

"Don't worry, darling," reassured William, "I'll be gentle with you, like fine porcelain that I wouldn't want to break. You'll be fine." He slipped his arm about her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her mouth gently. "I'd never hurt you. Trust me."

She was lost and enamored hopelessly to this man, drowning in his loving words. "I do trust you," she simply replied.

Karen sighed dreamily. "When will we be married?"

"Not soon enough," he remarked with an air of eagerness and sarcasm.

"Now who's being naughty," she admonished him.

"Naughty?! It's natural to want to lay with your wife."

"Your wife," she repeated his words whimsically and sweetly.

"My wife," he confirmed. "Karen Tavington."

"Mrs. William Tavington," she countered and smiled at him.

"The Colonel's Lady," he smirked.

"People_ call_ me that _now_," she protested.

"Alright, then," he said in a brutish voice, "My Woman!"

"Oh, Will," she laughed and rolled her eyes.

The couple was silent for a moment, then they looked at each other seriously.

"I can't wait," said Karen, in a subdued tone. "I hope you'll be happy with me."

"Of course I will. I love you," he assured her."I'm happy now."

Tavington stood up, towering over his fiancee, and embraced her. He held her close to him for a quiet moment then pulled back from her to look into her eyes. "I hope that you'll be content with me," he expressed sincerely.

William touched her cheek with his fingers, trailing his thumb along her lips. He continued to speak in a tone that conveyed worry that he would never be able to fulfill joy in her life. "I want to make you happy, Karen."

The officer's blue eyes were so full of desire, vulnerability, and true love that she thought she might melt right there and then. She took his hand that brushed her cheek and laid his palm securely against her face, her hand over his, holding it there.

"You will," she affirmed positively. "We'll be very happy." She gave him an angelic smile. They kissed again, lingering long enough to taste one another's mouths.

Then, Colonel Tavington offered Miss Stirhaley his arm, which she took and escorted her back to the main house.


	5. Chapter 5 Of Rules And Ghosts

CHAPTER 5 Of Rules And Ghosts 

The Green Dragoons looked awesome and foreboding as they rode up the lane of the Martin plantation. Colonel Tavington, riding at the front, could see that the infantry regiment they were to rendezvous with was already there.

As the riders neared the large house, they could see wounded from both armies all over the place, and the civilians—probably the family—tending to the wounded. Just before the house, William Tavington raised his arm to call a halt to the unit.

The dragoons were met by the family huddled together on the porch. A young British lieutenant stepped down from the veranda and marched straight to Tavington, who was still on his horse. The Lieutenant bowed in respect to the commanding officer.

"Lieutenant, have the attachment take our wounded to our surgeons at Winnsboro," Tavington ordered. "Fire the house and barns! Let it be known that if you harbor the enemy, you will lose your home!"

The family stood still and silent on the porch, watching the Colonel's moves with cautious eyes. Colonel Tavington turned to some of the male slaves who had gathered near the house. "By standing order of His Majesty King George, all slaves of the American Colonies who fight for the Crown will be granted their freedom with our victory."

One brave man spoke up. "Sir, we are not slaves. We work this land as freedmen."

"Well, then, you are freedmen who will have the opportunity and the privilege of fighting in the King's army, aren't you!" Tavington shot back smartly. His irritation for rebels was showing itself. These days, his patience ran short and only a few words from a rebel would ignite his ire.

The lieutenant handed him a bundle of papers. "Rebel dispatches, Sir."

The Colonel glanced at them, then spoke. "Who carried these?" His voice was firm, the tone demanding an answer immediately. Tavington looked around at the mute people. _Damn they defy me, he thought_. _I'll get an answer NOW if I have to beat it out of_ _someone myself!_

"WHO CARRIED THIS?" Tavington shouted angrily. His temper was now wearing thin.

"I did, Sir," an American male voice said. It sounded like the voice of a young man to William.

Indeed he was right. A young man who looked about twenty stepped through the crowd, left the porch of the house, and approached the Colonel. "I was wounded," he continued as he pulled on his blue Colonial Regular coat. "These people gave me care. They have nothing to do with the dispatches." He pulled his blonde pony tail out of his coat collar and straightened his vest and jacket.

"Take this one to camp," commanded Tavington calmly, back in control. "He is a spy. Hang him and put his body on display."

"He's a dispatch rider and that's a marked case," someone protested. It was Benjamin Martin, owner of the plantation. He was now off the porch. His dark brown hair was hanging loosely,falling out of its queue, and his clothes were stained with the blood of both armies' wounded.

Tavington paid no heed and went on. "Destroy the livestock. Save the horses for the Dragoons."

Benjamin Martin was now at the foot of Tavington's saddle. "Colonel, this is a uniformed dispatch rider carrying a marked case. He can not be held as a spy," he pleaded.

Colonel Tavington arched an eyebrow and smiled fiendishly. "Well, we're not going to hold him. We're going to hang him."

"Colonel— ," began Benjamin, but was quickly interrupted by a muffled voice.

"Father," the blonde headed young soldier whispered.

Martin looked as if the air had just been let out of his sails. He did not want these Redcoats to know the blonde dispatch rider, Gabriel, was his oldest son. The man wanted nothing more than to protect him.

Tavington was delighted that the cat had been let out of the bag. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and his mouth curved into a sinister grin. "Oh, I see. He is your son. Well perhaps you should have taught him something of loyalty."

Benjamin spoke again. "Colonel, I beg you to reconsider. By the rules of war—'

That was it for Tavington. He lost his temper. These days the colonel wearied quickly of rebels trying to make deals with him. With Tavington and Colonists, there were no deals. It was going to be done Tavington's way and his commands were to be followed. In his eyes, all actions carried out by him or his men were for the Crown. He was, after all, his King's soldier. And, he took his duty very seriously.

"Rules of war," yelled Tavington with disdain. These dealings were wasting his time. He'd already made his orders known. He pulled his pistol from the holster and pointed it down at Martin, glaring hard at him. "Would you like a lesson, sir, in the rules of war?"

Martin said nothing and did not flinch. He stood his ground and bravely held the deadly stare of the commander.

When there was no response from Martin, Tavington then shifted his weapon and aimed it at the Martin family and their slave Abigail, still huddling together on the veranda. They gasped and cowered instantly.

"Or perhaps your children would?" Tavington continued. This action brought immediate response from Benjamin. He ran and posed himself protectively in front of them.

"No lesson is necessary," he replied.

Satisfied, Tavington holstered his gun. The Lieutenant spoke up again. "Sir, what of the rebel wounded?" The lieutenant bit his lip for he knew of Tavington's reputation and anticipated what the answer would be. This he dreaded.

"Kill them," William answered.

Two of the infantry soldiers held Gabriel Martin while a third tied his wrists. Tavington slipped the dispatch papers into his saddlebag and didn't pay much attention to the voices of Martin and his family emanating from the porch.

Suddenly, a thin, brunette, teenage boy bolted from the porch past Tavington. He rushed the soldiers holding his older brother and readying to haul him away. The youth hurled his small body into them with such force that it knocked both of them away.

"Gabriel, RUN!" The boy screamed.

Just as quickly, a pistol shot rang out and silenced everyone around the area. After an instant of confusion, all had seen Tavington shoot the teenage boy, Thomas Martin, in the back. His family ran to him, and he died within seconds in his father's arms.

In the ensuing chaos that took place after the gunshot, the Colonel could only look down at the farm's owner as he cradled his dead son. "Stupid boy!" Tavington remarked, in disdain.

Tavington meant all of his actions and was never afraid to make an example out of someone or something. He thought one of the best ways to control the rebels was keeping them fearful.

Colonel Tavington had no second thoughts or regrets about shooting this boy. All he could see was a bold young teenager. If the boy was so unafraid as to rush those soldiers, then Tavington reasoned that this young man would grow up to be a fearless rebel, aiding their cause. In his mind, he had just rid the Colonies of one less future soldier or militiamen.

"Major," Tavington said to Bordon with a nod of his head. He then turned to look at his third officer, Wentworth. "Captain."

Those officers then bellowed orders and gestured to the rest of the legion to move out over the din of the surrounding confusion. The dragoons rode away as the houses and barns began to burn down, leaving the farm's family stunned. Will did not look back from his horse as His Majesty's infantry shot the rebel and Colonial wounded soldiers.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Major Bordon could scarcely believe his ears as the Cherokees talked. They were chatting so fast that he had to ask them more than once to slow down, as he was still a relative novice to their language. Miles, the lone interpreter for the two scouts, stood in the middle of an assembly of redcoat commanders. The major did his best to stay calm as he collected the info from the Indians then relayed it to the group of leaders.

Apparently, the two Indians had stumbled quite by accident onto a scene of carnage. A detachment of approximately 15 British infantry and one commander had been slaughtered, save for one man. The Cherokees found one redcoat clinging to life, his body crumpled and strewn in a stream. The natives rescued him, bringing him to the camp.

They made comment that there were no "regular bluecoats' found at the site, which was on a ridge on the Winnsboro Road. There had been a wagon and horses for there were foot prints and wheel tracks. According to the scouts, the tracks led toward Winnsboro, then stopped abruptly and turned back the direction it came from. The animals and wagons were gone when the indians arrived on the scene.

Tavington and Bordon surmised that this may have been part of the detachment that was dispatched to take English wounded to the surgeons at Winnsboro. With the description of the Lieutenant in charge, they assumed it also to be the group that had a condemned rebel captured at the Martin farm earlier. Since only uniformed British bodies were found, the colonial dispatch rider must have escaped in the fracas and was nowhere to be found. The commanders knew the colonials to be responsible for the massacre, but what faction? Regulars? Militia? Bandits?

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

As quickly as the group of leaders dispersed, the redskins' news spread through the tents quickly, causing an incessant buzz of conversation and gossip around several campfires. The din of the men speculating about the incident rose to an annoying hum penetrating the air and canvas walls.

The news of the loss of the detachment he had dispatched to Winnsboro coupled with the escape of a condemned prisoner put Colonel Tavington into a particularly foul mood. He had berated himself, thinking that if the dragoons would have taken the prisoner themselves, they would have fared better with the excellent battle skills possessed by the dragoons had they been the ones attacked. At the very least, more Redcoats than rebels would have been left standing.

William shook his head and scowled, looking down at the makeshift desk in his tent. He went back to trying to write his report of what transpired earlier that day at Benjamin Martin's plantation, but his concentration was shot. Tavington was tired, fighting hard to keep his mind on the matter at hand. The officer tried to shut out the low roar of the stunned men in the camp as he recalled the legion's recent activities in able to record them.

The colonel put pen to paper, listing the accomplishments of the last few days during a hard ride that had covered more miles than expected. They had destroyed three bridges, all on heavily traveled roads, making supply convoys unable to cross. A supply train was confiscated and prisoners taken, some with vital information. Tavington's legion had burned Martin's plantation, and commandeered an elaborate country manor near the Santee for the British. The bonus to the mayhem was that they captured some twenty horses, all in good condition, which was unusual. They had been running short of the beasts ever since they got to South Carolina.

The exhaustion from dragoon activities the last few days coupled with this day's bad news gave Will a headache. Tavington rubbed his eyes, put down his pen and stood up to stretch.

"Bordon?" He called from his tent. No answer.

Bordon?" Tavington repeated. "Damn! Where did he go now?" An aggravated William exited the tent with his tin cup in hand. If he was to continue writing, he needed some tea or coffee—something warm in his throat.

He made his way over to the fire. On his way he asked of anyone listening, "Anyone seen Major Bordon lately?" The rough edge of irritation was apparent in his voice.

"Yes, sir," answered one of the Dragoons pointing to the outer perimeter of the encampment. "At the edge of the camp talking to those scouts." Will peered down the way, indeed spotting Bordon conversing with two Indians.

While looking intently at the trio, one of the dragoons poured warm tea into his cup. "Sorry, sir," he apologized. "Bottom of the pot—only a few drops left."

"Thank you," he acknowledged . William decided to stay out of his tent for a moment and relished drinking the warm tea in the cool air. After he'd consumed the small bit of liquid, he put his cup down and sauntered quietly to the edge of the camp.

Though twilight, the moon was already up. He looked up at it and sighed. Despite the relative calm at the perimeter of the camp, a cacophony of noise crashed inside Tavington's head as he contemplated the day's events. The officer heaved yet another heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he tried to make sense of things, wondering what went wrong; what had failed.

From his new vantage point at the boundary of the camp, he could still see Bordon and the two Cherokees speaking animatedly. Colonel Tavington let the Major do his job of collecting intelligence from the natives, himself opting to soak up another moment of solace.

As he stared blankly into the distance, a small blur of light caught his eye. It flickered again, then another time. William's eyes refocused to a few inches in front of him, catching sight of a rogue firefly. His eyes followed it to and fro for a moment then he reached out and caught the thing in his hand. The officer watched the insect intently as it crawled over his hand and into his palm.

Tavington was so absorbed with the luminous creature in his hand that he didn't realize that his aide-de-camp was now standing beside him. Bordon's deep and resonant voice brought him out of his trance. "Sir, we have the private the Cherokee scouts brought in."

William shook the firefly off his hand as he turned to follow Bordon, not sure which medical tent the soldier was in. He remained silent as he followed his adjutant the short distance through the grass, then into the tent.

Lying on a bed in front of them was the only survivor of the massacre of the platoon that had taken Gabriel Martin prisoner. The young soldier was not in good shape. Some blood ran fresh and some had dried already on the man. The surgeon was finishing up with him.

"Private? Private," William said, trying to get the injured man's attention. The wounded soldier turned his head toward the officer. William could see that he was very young.

He introduced himself. "Colonel William Tavington, Green Dragoons. What happened? Who did this?"

"It was mad," the young soldier answered in a thick Scottish accent. "I couldn't really tell you who it was." The young man tried to prop himself up on his elbows.

The Colonel stepped forward and leaned down to the man. "Calm down, calm down," he said, stepping close to the bed and motioning the wounded man to rest easy. In an emphatic, yet calm voice, the officer continued. "Now, twenty of his Majesty's soldiers are dead and I need to know how." His speech had slowed slightly, deliberately calculated to imply urgency.

To Major Bordon, who had stayed near Tavington as he talked with the man, he feared they were starting to lose the soldier to incoherency. The aide-de-camp had interrogated the soldier earlier when he was first brought in by the Cherokees. Bordon felt for the young man and wanted him to rest. He thought he may lapse into unconsciousness before the colonel could even finish, so he stepped forward and spoke up. "He said it was—"

"Were you there?" Tavington snapped and cut him off directly.

Bordon held his tongue and stepped back.

"Then let him speak!" Tavington snarled.

Bordon said nothing back. It would have been futile for he knew that his commander had been in a bad mood most of the evening. He let the Colonel's temper roll off his shoulders, as he did most of the time.

Tavington continued his investigation. "Take your time and tell me how many were there? Were they Militia? Were they Regulars?"

The Private answered. "I don't really remember how many…Maybe one?"

Colonel Tavington stood back upright and knitted his eyebrows at the wounded soldier's answer. "One man? Really?"

The commander listened intently as the injured young man spoke. "He was in the flank. All around us. Amongst us. I could barely see him. He was there…..and then he was gone."

The Colonel was puzzled. He was wondering if the soldier really believed that it was just one man, or if this had become an incoherent rambling. "He just….vanished? Sounds more like a ghost than a man."

"Yes," the soldier answered straight away. "A ghost. He was like a ghost."

"Enough," Tavington said, stopping the interview. He'd heard all he needed to hear and felt no necessity to put the hurt man through more questioning. The colonel paused a moment, thinking about what the man had said.

"Bordon. Take a patrol. See if we can't capture this 'ghost'," he commented as he turned to face the tent door, "before word of his exploits spread. Who's this?"

A very tall, young man dressed in a Dragoon uniform had joined Bordon at the tent door. Tavington did not recognize him. He thought that maybe he was someone from Banastre Tarleton's dragoon unit.

"Sir, this is Captain Wilkins. He was with the loyalist Colonial Militia. I thought he might be of some use to us," replied Bordon.

Captain James Wilkins was in his early thirties, near the ages of Bordon and Tavington. He towered over both of the officers, who were right at six feet tall, with his six foot five inch frame. He was a handsome man, his hair sandy brown, wavy, and pulled back into the regulation wrapped queue, same as Tavington's and Bordon's hair was.

At the mere mention that the man was a colonist, even though he claimed to be loyal to the Crown, Colonel Tavington was suspicious.

"Another Colonial," Tavington scoffed with apparent disdain.

"Tell me, Captain Wilkins," he sniffed, "Where do your loyalties lie?" He was testing him, as he did most of his new dragoons.

"To King and Country, Sir," Wilkins answered.

"Why should I trust a man who would betray his neighbors?"

"Those neighbors of mine who stand against England deserve to die a traitor's death."

"We'll see," Tavington remarked in a sing song manner. It was clear that he didn't believe or trust a word Wilkins said. Tavington then exited the tent thinking about his most current and pressing problem: the Ghost.


	6. Chapter 6 The Gentleman Bordon?

CHAPTER 6 The Gentleman Bordon?

The ensuing days and weeks after the ambush of the British on the creek trail brought more trouble and turmoil. There were more sneak attacks on the redcoats, with the rebels usually following the same pattern: hide in the foliage and kill the officers first.

Major Bordon and the new loyalist Captain Wilkins had canvassed the countryside in hopes that the locals would impart some information on the perpetrator of the attacks, but all were tight lipped. Even the few colonial informants and redcoat spies could come up with nothing. For now, the identity of the attackers remained unknown, and the British officers had taken to calling the ringleader "The Ghost", since he and all known information about the man seemed to vanish.

This morning found Colonels Tarleton and Tavington, along with Major Bordon huddled over a map of the area spread upon a small table on the side portico of the mansion. The trio perused the map, pinpointing areas where the "ghost's" ambushes had taken place. They put their heads together trying to discern information for future use.

Karen sat nearby, quietly helping one of the McKinnon granddaughters with some needlepoint. She occasionally lifted her head, looking around at the surroundings. The estate had calmed, with most of the troops moving out for daily patrols after breakfast. A few servants were moving around, attending to their chores. If it was a usual day, the estate would not be a bustle again until early evening hours.

The morning calm was disturbed by a clamor a few yards from the porch. Karen and the officers looked in the direction of the well, where they had all noticed a few moments earlier that the pretty house servant, Laura, was there drawing water.

"Stop it!" The girl was trying to finish up filling her water buckets as three redcoat soldiers surrounded her.

"Let me by," she implored as they continued getting fresh with her.

One of them knocked the pail of water from her hand. "How about a little fun, huh?"

The slender blonde servant recoiled. She jumped suddenly as one of the soldiers grabbed at her skirt.

"Right feisty little bird, aren't you?"

"It'll just take a few moments, love," one remarked as another one pulled the back of her dress. "Then you can get back to work."

"We know you want it," one smirked. "You servant girls give it up to every soldier that comes along."

"Stop! Leave me alone," cried Laura. One of the young redcoats then shoved her, knocking the poor girl into the arms of one of the others. He tried to steal a kiss as she pushed herself away from him.

On the porch, Karen was now standing, alarmed at the situation unfolding before them. She moved closer to the officers, putting her hand on her fiance's arm. "William," she said.

"Stay here," he cautioned as he put his arm in front of her, barring her from leaving the porch. Colonel Tavington stepped off the veranda with Banastre a pace behind. It was only then that the two senior officers realized that they were already feet behind Major Bordon, who was storming across the grass as if it were on fire.

The angry major pushed the ruffians away from Laura. He pulled her firmly away from them and placed himself protectively in front of her. The servant, stunned that a respected officer had come to her rescue, stood behind him trying to catch her breath.

"See here, you men," he snarled, "leave this girl alone!"

The three soldiers, upon Bordon's closer inspection, had rumpled uniforms and reeked of Port and Ale. He assumed they had been on a night patrol, returned in the wee hours of the morning only to indulge in some cheap camp liquor.

"Out of our way! We saw her first," one soldier protested.

Another quickly chimed in. "Yeah! We'll leave you some after we're done with her!"

Bordon's anger rose a step higher. He marveled at how spirits made men brave—and stupid.

"You're not going to touch her," Miles warned.

"And who are you to order _us _around?"

"_I_ am Major Bordon," he answered sternly, "and the two behind me are colonels!" He pointed back at Banastre and William while never taking his eyes off of the guilty men.

Tavington and Tarleton had remained a few steps back from the well, somewhat removed from the situation. The two commanders were taken aback at Bordon's fury, deciding to stay silent for the moment.

The Major's tirade continued. "Need I remind you lot how to act in the presence of officers?"

The trio of men were startled, but could only sluggishly assume the stance of attention. One of them uttered a less than sincere apology.

"Begging your pardon, sir. We were just having a little fun."

Bordon's eyes narrowed at the words. "Well have your fun elsewhere and with someone else!"

The other two soldiers spoke up as well, challenging the officer. "Sir, what do you care of her?"

"Yeah. She's just a servant."

Miles tried to keep his anger in check. He measured his words and spoke them in control. "Yes, a house servant of an esteemed and noble loyalist family that happen to be our hosts here. Let's not insult or embarrass them with incidents such as this."

The major shot stern looks at each man, then continued. "I won't have you defiling any Tory women in this household—servant or otherwise."

He took a breath. "It's quite clear what you men want," he pronounced, "but you're not getting it from this one." He nodded his head slightly backwards, acknowledging Laura, still hiding behind him. "Go back to the tents and get it there."

"Why pay for it there when we can get it for free from her?"

Major Bordon's ire moved up another notch. But still he kept in control, remembering himself. He took a step closer to the three men.

"My how brazen the Ale makes men," he observed. He moved in yet closer to the soldiers purposely trying to intimidate them. "I'll say this only once more," warned Bordon. "If you want _that,_… then go back down to the camp and get it there. There's plenty of _it _to go around down there! Now clear out or I'll have you thrown in the brig!"

The soldiers turned and walked away, looking back just once to see the officer still glaring at them. As they left, Karen lifted her skirt slightly and bolted off the porch to Laura's side.

Bordon turned back to look at his charge. Laura's face still carried a look of amazement on it over what had just transpired. She regained her composure and dipped into a shaky curtsy. "Thank you, Sir," she squeaked.

Bordon said nothing as he bowed his head to her. Though she was visibly shaken, he could see that she would be fine.

Karen reached Laura's side. "Are you alright," she asked the servant with concern.

Laura answered, "Yes. Fine, Miss. Thank you." With that she picked up both water buckets and made her way back to the house accompanied by Miss Stirhaley.

After a moment of cooling off, Bordon turned to find the two colonels staring at him with crooked smiles of amusement on their faces. Tavington arched an eyebrow upwards.

"Well done, Bordon", he remarked.

"Yes. Cheers mate," Tarleton exclaimed with a tilt of his head.

"Either of you _could _have spoken up at _any_ time," Bordon lightly admonished.

The major walked back where his superiors stood. The three then turned and walked back toward the porch to resume planning strategy. The conversation continued as they walked.

"We _could _have_," _Tarleton smirked, "but you had the situation well under control."

Tavington agreed. "Yes—I doubt either of us would have been as passionate as you."

Miles could see where this might go just from the tone of their voices. He could tell he was in for a good ribbing. The major kept silent for a moment as they made their way to the steps, hoping the subject might be dropped.

Instead, the colonels pursued it, taking pleasure in watching their friend squirm. "You fancy her, Miles, don't you?" Tavington raised his eyebrows as he watched for his adjutant's response. "Hmmm?"

"No," he answered trying not to show how startled he was. "I was just defending the girl. We can't have men taking advantage of the women here," Miles justified. "You've seen that things like that will run rampant if one incident is let to happen."

"Had a go at her, huh?" Tarleton grinned. "C'mon, Bordy. You can tell us!"

"No, Ban," answered the major, letting the formalities of rank drop for a moment. "Nothing of the sort."

"Ah…come now, Miles," William coaxed. "Surely you've noticed the way she looks at you?"

Bordon sighed, irritated with his two friends. "Even if I wanted to cavort with her, she's a servant." Miles had always been painfully aware of his parents', much the same as William's and Banastre's, wishes that he only mix with women of the same aristocratic class. "My parents would never stand for it! They'd disinherit me."

"Who said anything of marriage," Tavington asked. "Half the officers in the colonies have mistresses." He lowered his voice. Tarleton and Bordon moved in closer to listen to him. "Remember General Burgoyne? He had one."

Tarleton joined in. "O'Hara has one," he pointed out with a cock of his head and a sly smile.

Bordon rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. I've heard the gossip and seen him with her!"

"You should pick that fruit while it's ripe," advised Tavington. "For if you don't, someone else will." He smirked, nodding his head over at Ban as he did.

"Yes," Ban smiled. "She's a pretty little thing. I wouldn't mind getting under her skirts myself."

"_You're_ not going to touch her, Banny," Miles retorted.

"Ah there we go," Tavington chuckled. "You _do_ fancy her."

Bordon suddenly looked embarrassed. Tavington noticed this and cocked his head sideways. "Who knows what goes on behind closed doors, hmmmm?" Both colonels shot looks at the major that silently assured him that they would never spread word of any exploits with the girl, should he have her.

"Ah, but all the while the pleasure is going on in the bedroom," Bordon began in an attempt to finally kill the joking, "our Ghost is out there somewhere poised to strike again."

William and Banastre sighed, unable to help but shake their heads in agreement. "Yes, unfortunately," Tavington acquiesced, "business before pleasure." With that, the trio mounted the portico steps and headed back to the map and matters at hand.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Laura, the pretty blonde house servant, was busy this morning changing bed linens in the McKinnon household. She had most of the rooms done, but still had to go down and ready the dining room table.

After changing the sheets on Major Bordon's bed, she stopped for a minute, looking about his room. She found the Dragoons second in command handsome and was quite taken with him. He had always conducted himself as a gentleman with her and all the other ladies of the house.

The servant often wondered if she had any kind of chance with him. She had heard that he was not married nor did he have a woman. Laura knew he came from a wealthy family of an aristocratic class. If she would be lucky enough to become his wife someday, his money and position in society would help her family's meager farm. But money wasn't everything to her—she had developed true feelings for the man.

Laura had caught him looking at her from time to time. Just as well for he had feelings for her—she did not want to assume that he did just on the basis of an occasional sideways glance cast her direction. The girl dared not say anything for she was a servant and he an aristocratic officer. All she could do was admire him from afar, and hope for a kind word or gesture from him.

As Miss Pratt lingered, she could smell his scent in the room. She brought the sheets just pulled from his bed to her face, breathing in the mixed scent of leather, horses, and apple pomade mixed with his own manly scent. Laura pushed the linens into the basket and moved to Major Bordon's dressing table. She looked at his brush, comb, and other things on his dresser. After that, she moved quietly across the room to the window. The girl looked outside, wondering where he was for she hadn't seen him yet today.

The maid saw a group of green dragoons galloping up the lane. Her heart lightened and her face lit up with a smile. She looked earnestly for her Major.

While she did, she hadn't noticed that she was no longer alone in Miles Bordon's bedchamber. The man himself had walked into his room silently after noticing the door slightly ajar. He was intrigued to see the beautiful young servant standing at his window. The officer had watched her a moment, pleased that she was oblivious to him. Miles stayed silent at the door, studying her pretty face and slender curves.

Bordon wondered what she was looking out the window at. Maybe she was looking for someone. He pondered silently what was in her mind at that moment; what or whom was she thinking about?

He noticed a disappointed sigh escape from her mouth as she cocked her head to the side, watching the cavalrymen out the window. He too, noticed the dragoons on the green out there.

The two were watching Ban Tarleton dismount his horse, only to be immediately surrounded by a bevy of young beauties. Miles thought that maybe the servant was disappointed to be in his room at this time, instead of down on the lawn greeting the popular Colonel.

"Colonel Tarleton does have a way with the women," Miles remarked, breaking the silence.

Laura gasped, spinning around quickly as she did. The girl saw the Major standing near his door still in his uniform, save for his jacket which was draped over his arm. He was dashing even in his vest. She was embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming in his room.

"Sorry sir," she apologized as she bowed to him. "I just changed your bedclothes. I'll be leav—"

"No. Quite alright. Sorry to have interrupted your reverie." As he talked he laid his jacket over the wingback chair and began loosening his cravat.

"I wasn't daydreaming," she answered, feeling the need to explain, "I was looking for someone out the window. I'm sorry, sir."

The aide-de-camp took his cravat off and put it on the dressing table. "Did you find him?" he innocently asked.

"No…um…..yes….I mean," the flustered girl began, she was disturbed and felt lost in his presence. "Well….I wasn't looking for Colonel Tarleton. I don't fancy him like the other ladies do."

The servant felt her skin become warm, but she tried to keep herself calm. She watched the major as he loosed the buttons on his shirt, letting the collar drop open. When Laura realized that she was staring at him, she suddenly looked down and away.

"Who were you looking for," asked the Major, momentarily forgetting that a gentleman might not ask such a forward sounding question. He suddenly realized what he had asked but could not take it back before she answered.

"Oh, I thought that was your legion returning," she said as she let her guard down a bit.

"No, they rode out over an hour ago," informed Miles. "I stayed behind for paperwork and meeting with superiors at the fort. I only just returned a few moments ago."

An awkward silence passed between the two, neither knowing what to say next. Quickly Laura picked up the laundry basket. "Good day, sir", she bid as she curtsied. She moved quickly toward the door.

"Wait," Miles called after her. He began, hesitatingly. "I was hoping I might have a word with you….alone."

Laura's heart jumped within her. She hoped that he did like her. Maybe he was going to declare intentions? Maybe he wanted permission to begin a courtship?

With emotions swirling inside her, she hesitated a moment at the door, composing herself. She turned slowly back around to him, looking down at the floor as she did. "Yes sir?"

"Excuse me, Miss," he began, picking his words carefully, "I know this may sound a little forward, but I must say that I find you very pretty."

Laura blushed. "Thank you, sir," she replied, dipping into a habitual and customary curtsy. She looked down at the floor, feeling very shy suddenly.

"And surely you've seen me admiring you," he asked, his voice softer.

"Yes Major," she replied nervously.

"I've seen you gazing my direction on occasion," he stated. "Our eyes have met more than once."

Suddenly, Laura felt scared, almost as if it was safer just to admire him from afar then to court him. She panicked, feeling the overwhelming need to flee the room.

"Um…Sir…I really must," her words stopped short as she ran to the door.

Bordon lurched toward it and they met there are the same time. Both their hands touched as they reached for the doorknob simultaneously.

The pretty blonde looked up at him. "Major," she protested, "please let me by. I'm needed in the dining room."

Miles took the clothes basket out of her arms and sat it on the nearby chair. The man looked down at her with a mixture of sincerity and subtle lust on his face. "Let's admit that we fancy each other, shall we?" His low voice was warm sounding, with a bit of danger mixed in.

Laura felt trapped wanting to run, yet she wanted to stay, even though her integrity may be in peril while alone in this officer's room. She thought he looked like a handsome, casual rogue with his shirt collar open.

Miles took both her hands in his and lifted them to his lips, where he kissed both as a gentleman would. He watched her eyes close as a telltale sigh escaped her lips.

"Ah," he thought, "she_ is_ ripe for the picking," recalling Tavington's words to him just days ago.

Laura's head was spinning. She liked Bordon, indeed, and was relieved and happy to be alone with him, finally. The girl was elated to know for certain that he liked her, as well. She knew she should not be there alone with him. What if they were caught? She would be turned out of the household, losing her position as a servant, income and connections that her family needed badly.

The officer took her hand and pulled her gently away from the door. The pretty servant liked the feeling of her hand in his.

As she stood by the small round dining table in his room, she spied her clothes basket still sitting over near the door. Miss Pratt surmised that she could run away, pick up the clothes and make a graceful, discreet exit nearly all in one move. But she still wanted to stay, which caused her to hesitate another moment. A silent Bordon didn't help matters any.

She looked up at the officer, her sparkling blue eyes giving her thoughts away. "I must go,"she protested. "They will be looking for me."

"No, stay for just a few moments," Miles argued. He refused to let loose of her hand, pulling her daringly close to him. He seemed to tower over her, and she felt small and frightened.

Miles bent down slightly, brushed a light kiss against her cheek, and then her lips. The girl closed her eyes as he did. His lips moved softly over her jaw, then to her ear.

"Oh," Laura whispered, her emotions now betraying her better judgment. She went limp and melted into him as he kissed her neck.

The man's arms went around her waist to hold the girl there, but also to hold her up, thinking she may swoon. Bordon smiled to himself against her soft skin, pleased that he was making her so thoroughly bothered. A low chuckle escaped his mouth as he felt her arms go instinctively around his neck.

"Sir, please don't make me do this," she begged halfheartedly, out of breath.

The officer continued his subtle assault of kisses. "I'm not making you," he remarked softly, his mouth against her jaw, "you are free to leave whenever you like."

Major Bordon brought his mouth to hers, covering it with a slow kiss. She received his kisses, not daring to part her lips, afraid of a deeper kiss. Her arms tightened about his neck.

She finally returned his gentle kisses with her own. "But it's hard to leave when you're being seduced," Laura murmured against his lips.

"No, it's not. The door is that way;" he whispered. Bordon deepened his kiss as her lips parted. He pushed his tongue gently into her mouth as he held her steadily, sensing her knees going weak. His mouth left hers again to kiss her jaw. "All you have to do is walk through it." The officer was enjoying teasing her.

Laura's resistance broke down a little further as her mouth went back to his. She felt herself being moved a few more steps across the officer's room, toward a small table. The girl found a small bit of fight left within herself. "Major…please," she protested in a feeble voice, "Oh God….please stop."

After another small kiss, Miles turned the girl around gently so that her back was to his front. He raked his finger tips up the front of her body from her thighs to her neck. His fingers met under her chin, gently lifting her head up and backwards. The officer kissed her neck and teased softly, "You don't want me to stop."

A sigh of resignation escaped the girl's lips as she leaned limply back against him. Miles began to gather her skirt up into his hands. After a moment, he pushed the material up over her hips.

Laura, the backside of her body against the man, could feel his hardened erection against her through his breeches. This caused her to catch a breath quickly. She felt weak in her knees again as Bordon's right hand snaked up the outside, then the inside of her right thigh.

The Major gripped her left hip with his left hand, steadying her. Laura let out an audible gasp as she felt the fingers of his right hand against her crotch.

Bordon was pleased to find her wet and waiting for him. He pushed one finger up inside her moistness, then another. The girl moaned softly and closed her eyes. With his fingers still inside her, his thumb found her point of womanhood, massaging it until it was swollen, all the while easing his fingers in and out of her wetness.

After a moment of that sweet torture, his right hand moved from underneath her skirt to her back, gently pushing her torso forward, down onto the small dining table. Then he pushed his own pants down slightly, enough to free his manhood. From there, Bordon heaved his hardness into the girl with a firm thrust.

Laura gasped aloud as his size filled her up. Still bent forward on the table, she reached forward and grabbed the other side of it, wanting to steady herself yet feeling the urge to hang on to something, ready for him. Bordon saw this sign and began to move himself insistently in and out of her. After a few thrusts, he slowed his pace and moved his hand back around in front of her.

The girl moaned as she felt his finger on her womanhood again. He massaged her there sensually finding the right rhythm after only a moment. The deft strokes of his finger against her combined with his frantic plunging deep into her worked the girl into a frenzy.

As Laura felt close to her release, she pushed herself up off his table to lean back into his body, wanting to feel it against her as she came. Her right arm went up over her head and back behind her, where she slipped it around Miles' neck, hanging on to him tightly.

Another moment later, they climaxed together, both collapsing forward onto the small table. They laid there a moment, panting, as they recovered. Then Laura felt his body leave hers as he pushed himself up and away to button his breeches. She pressed herself up from the table and pulled her skirts down.

Bordon caught her in his arms and kissed her again. The girl smiled up at him, then looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

Remembering herself, she pleaded, "Please don't tell anyone, Sir. If Mrs. McKinnon hears the gossip she will—"

"I don't participate in gossip," he interrupted. "Whatever happens in here, between us, is for us only." Bordon smiled sweetly at Laura, wanting to assuage her fears that their secret was safe with him.

"Sir, I must go," she bade while making a quick curtsy. The servant padded softly to the door where she picked up her laundry basket. Laura tucked it under one arm and gave a quick look back at the officer.

As she did, Major Bordon caught one of her hands and pressed a few Crowns into it. The servant looked at the coins in astonishment and disbelief. Her heart sank, feeling she had just been used.

"I can't accept these. I'm not a whore." She fought tears back, trying to be proud and brave.

"I know you're not," Bordon agreed.

"The harlots are down in the camp," she blurted out as she put the sovereigns back on the table. Burning with shame, she wanted to get out of the major's quarters. She tried to open the door, but it stuck. Laura began to sob in her frustration, still fumbling with the doorknob furiously.

Bordon sighed as he watched the girl trying to escape. He felt like a cad, realizing he had approached the situation in the wrong way.

The latch finally broke loose to her relief and she slipped out of his room. The servant was still sobbing as she did.

Miles worried, wondering how he would explain the pretty servant in tears fleeing his room should anyone see it. He knew he had to pacify the girl and save the situation. He stepped into the hallway and caught Laura's arm. She looked back at him in horror as he pulled her back through the door into his room.

Closing the door softly, he took the basket from her once again and sat it on the chair. The officer reached out and touched her cheek, wiping the tears away with his fingers.

"I didn't want a doxy from the camp," he stated. "I wanted you."

"But I'm not like them," she protested tearfully. "I'm not a common trollop. I don't want you to treat me—"

"I know," he soothed, doing his best to ease her fears. "Miss, please listen to me."

Laura put her hands behind her back and leaned back against the door. The girl wanted desperately to believe anything he would say to her.

"Part of my duty as Colonel Tavington's adjutant is to find out things about this area," Miles explained. "To know anything that may help us to win this war. And, as such, I happen to know that your family has a modest plantation."

Laura's eyes widened, amazed that the officer knew this or even cared to know it. Her tears stopped as she listened keenly to Bordon.

"I know that it makes a meager profit, but that your family still struggles. You don't have extra money for servants or more slaves. So, your family hired you and your brother out to the McKinnon's. My family has a business in England. I've heard many times about the lean years my father had with it."

Bordon paused for a moment, then continued. "Please, don't take the money for yourself," he pleaded, "take it for your family. Think of it as a gift from a wealthy officer to your family."

Laura said nothing. She thought about what he'd said, feeling somewhat better about the situation. Miles watched her quietly as she reacted to his words.

"My parents will question where the money came from," she argued.

"You slip it in to the till discreetly," he rebutted.

"They'll notice the overage in the books," she countered.

"Yes, but if the error is in their favor, they may not question it knowing that the income is needed," he pointed out. He pressed the coins back into her hand. "For your family."

With a sigh, Laura relented and took the money without protest, trying to convince herself that it would help the plantation's expenses. "Yes, thank you, sir." With that, she picked up the laundry and scurried out of his room.

Bordon poured himself a glass of wine from the decanter on his nightstand. He took a sip, satisfied that he had settled the situation between Laura and him. He felt confident that if he could get her to take money each time for their liaisons, that it would remain a business arrangement between the two of them. As such, there would be no way, in his mind, that she would ever develop any romantic feelings for him.

Treating her as a whore, without making it so blatantly obvious to her, was a way for them both to feel better about things.

_**Story terminology note: **__"Crowns" and "Sovereigns" are slang terms for British coins._


	7. Chapter 7 Cruel Words

CHAPTER 7 Cruel Words 

_Weeks later….._

On a small hill overlooking the battlefield at Camden, Lord General Cornwallis and Brigadier General O'Hara watched the English Army battle the Colonial Regular Army. They were winning, and Cornwallis was delighted.

O'Hara surveyed the action through a long glass. He could see Colonel Tavington charging in before they had made the call for him to, with his Dragoons not far behind him. It never ceased to amaze O'Hara how Tavington chased glory.

During the cavalry charge, William led his men bravely. He did not fear death on the battlefield and felt his place was always to lead the charge and set an example of bravery and valor for his men to follow. Tavington was a natural born leader.

The officer was also a fearless warrior. Swinging his heavy saber as he rode, he hacked at the limbs and bodies of the Colonial regulars with no mercy. He knew this was the way of battle, and had it have been him on the ground, kindness would not have been shown to him. William was there only for one thing: Victory.

Atop the hill, O'Hara closed his long glass and put it away. "Well my Lord, it appears that the field is yours."

General Cornwallis spoke honestly and blatantly to him, as was his usual manner. "These rustics are so inept," he commented with aplomb. "Nearly takes the honor out of victory…Nearly."

General O'Hara smiled broadly and laughed heartily at his commander's blunt comment.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Hours later, after the English victory at Camden, Major Bordon and Colonel Tavington took leave of their unit to ride to Cornwallis' camp and join the Generals there. He thought for sure that they'd be delighted to see him, his cavalry unit having helped in taking the field in the battle. They could all celebrate together.

As William and Miles rode into the Generals' camp, a small unit of Redcoats was moving out to the strains of "The British Grenadiers" played on the brigade's fife and drum. The officers saluted the departing unit as they continued their ride into the camp.

The two men dismounted outside the door of the tent and entered. Bordon followed his superior in, helmet in hand. Once inside, they were met with disdainful and silent stares from the Regular Army Generals.

The Generals looked down on Tavington and his Green Dragoons. Although he was a good and fearless soldier, they did not think he was made of the same mettle as them. They thought he was inferior and an officer of low character from low breeding. They thought his military tactics as crude, brutal, and not gentlemanly, and directed part of the blame for their 'stained' reputation at him. Also, it was no secret that the Tavington family had fallen from grace in the eyes of British society due to William's father squandering the family name and a sizeable part of its fortune—save for what William could salvage in selling off some business interests—away with drinking, questionable morals and exploits. This was a prejudice that William fought against most of his life, being an officer. He felt that he would have to be the one child of the family to redeem the Tavington good name and reputation.

Tavington and Bordon, dirty and blood stained from the battle, noticed the stares but were too tired to care. They were also famished, having gone since breakfast without a meal, and _that_ meal was a meager one. Spread out before them on a table in the tent was a sumptuous banquet. All the leaders were drinking wine. William saw Cornwallis in the back part of the tent having his uniform straightened as he stood before a mirror.

Colonel Tavington greeted the group proudly. "My Lord General. Gentlemen. Glorious day for his Majesty and England!"

The leaders just stared at Tavington and his second in command, and let Cornwallis speak as he entered the main room. "Colonel Tavington. Always too early. Always too eager for glory."

"For victory, my Lord," Tavington gently corrected, trying to stand up for himself in a subtle manner. "I believe we took the field." Tavington watched as Cornwallis took a piece of meat from the platter and fed it to his two Great Dane dogs, Jupiter and Mars.

"Next time," admonished Cornwallis, "you'll wait for my command." He was always upset by Tavington when he could not sit still on his horse long enough for the command to charge, and he seemed to be doing this more and more. Cornwallis' patience with his dragoon commander was dwindling.

"It appears that Colonel Tavington prefers to follow his own commands," General O'Hara remarked.

This made William's blood boil silently within. He thought that apparently, it had been so long since O'Hara had commanded his own regiment, that he had forgotten that commanding officers should use their initiative at all times. After all, William would watch the progress of the battle and enter when he felt the cavalry was needed, whether ordered to or not. All by his initiative and all to help gain victory for England.

"Is it not bad enough that we've become accustomed to speculating in which direction your…..initiative….would take you and what outcome it would have on us," O'Hara remarked dryly, "but we've also been informed of late that these actions have caused the country folks to label you with monikers that aren't the least bit amusing or flattering."

"Yes," Cornwallis acknowledged. "They've taken to calling Colonel Tarleton 'Bloody Ban."

Miles' jaw dropped as he heard this, wondering why he hadn't learned this from intelligence in the area. He was embarrassed that the ranking officers knew the situation of the area before her did, making him feel as though they might doubt his ability to do his job.

Bordon didn't know what to say, but figured he had to say something—anything—to justify his ignorance of the developments. "General….I—" he stammered, only to be interrupted by O'Hara.

"_You're_ known as 'Brutal Bordon'…for your…interrogation techniques…" O'Hara announced, his words slow and pronounced. "That gentlemanly quality of yours only lasts so long, doesn't it?"

Miles drew in a sharp breath and looked downwards. Bordon knew in his heart that he was guilty of sometimes "stong-arming" male rebel prisoners for information and for sometimes 'looking the other direction' when questionable tactics occurred. He felt like a child having just been caught stealing red handed.

The surprise attack of words continued on with the Lord General. "Colonel," Cornwallis began, "O'Hara tells me _you've_ earned the nickname 'The Butcher' among the populace."

William opened his mouth to speak up in his defense but was waved off by Lord Cornwallis.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," dismissed Cornwallis. He then turned to the Generals that surrounded him and toasted them with his glass. "Gentleman, my compliments!"

General O'Hara raised his glass in return to lead another toast. "To victory!"

Tavington turned to leave. He and Bordon looked at each other, dumbfounded. Even Bordon, who had listened to Tavington complain about the constant reprimands of his leadership, had thought that Cornwallis would at least be happy that they had another victory under their belt. Instead, he belittled one of his best Colonels in front of his team of Generals. Bordon thought it disgraceful. William heaved a sigh in frustration.

Once outside, they mounted their horses in silence, and looked at each other, both rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. After they had ridden a few feet from the command tent, Bordon turned to Tavington and tried to lighten the mood.

"Hey," he said. "Sod this! Let's go to the pub. There's got to be a good loyalist tavern around here somewhere," he wondered aloud. "I'm sure it would be an honor for any Tory to serve ale to the infamous 'Butcher' and his aide-de-camp 'Brutal Bordon'," he quipped .

Tavington knew his friend was trying to lighten the mood. Bordon's humorous quips always harkened back to when they were young dragoons with freshly purchased commissions, and would often remind him that they sometimes were hooligans in those younger days. Everything was so serious now that they were older and at war.

Bordon put spurs into his horse's ribs and cried "Hiyah!" as he rode ahead. Tavington did the same and followed, quickly leaving the camp behind.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

"Good Morning Miss Stirhaley!"

"Hello General O'Hara," she replied, as she let him politely take her hand and bow to her.

Karen Stirhaley had gone with a wagon and driver to Fort Carolina Headquarters to pick up some badly needed supplies that had gone missing from a recent shipment for the Green Dragoons . Since there were no extra soldiers at the time to spare, she had volunteered to collect the supplies. And while inside the main house, she had run into General O'Hara, immediate aide to General Lord Cornwallis in the hallway. There, they exchanged pleasantries briefly.

Karen, knowing that Cornwallis and O'Hara sometimes went to the battlefields with the men, wondered if William had come back with them. He hadn't arrived back at the estate that morning. "Are the Dragoons back here yet?"

"No," answered O'Hara. "Lord Cornwallis and myself are only back because we excused ourselves early from a victory celebration. We didn't get in until very late last night. You may not see Colonel Tavington's bunch for two or three days. I believe their plans were to search and raid while out that way."

Karen nodded her head and bid him good bye. She walked to nearly the end of the hallway to Lord Cornwallis' massive office. Miss Stirhaley wanted to greet and congratulate him on the victory at Camden. At that moment, he was indisposed. His office door was open and she could hear him dictating some letters to his secretary. She decided to wait a few moments to let him finish, then she would peak her head into his office.

The hallway was deserted. Most of the soldiers had not arrived back yet. It was quiet except for the faint sounds coming from Cornwallis' office, and the more audible sound of a group of women close by. They were seated in a sitting room near the General's office and the door was open

Karen thought she recognized the voices as those of some of the officer's wives. Tea was being served. She decided not to join them as she guessed the General would be done soon, anyway.

A couple of moments passed with Karen still waiting in the corridor. The women enjoying the tea continued conversing in subdued tones, unaware of anyone but their immediate group. Their conversation, however, carried into the hallway where Miss Stirhaley stood.

"Well, I must confess that I've always thought him very handsome," said a voice.

"Yes, Colonel Tavington is a dashing officer."

Karen smiled to herself, momentarily flattered that the officer's wives thought her William to be good looking.

"A bit rough, though, wouldn't you say?" asked another voice.

"Yes. He is a rogue."

"You know his superiors don't have much respect for him or the Green Dragoons."

"Teddy says they call him 'The Butcher'."

"Really? Why?"

"His practice is to kill the surrendering or wounded enemy."

"No!"

"Oh, Yes! I assure you, it's quite true."

"I've also heard that he has killed women and children."

"No!"

"How disgraceful!"

"Yes! And what he did to that woman up in Charles Towne!"

"What happened?"

"Why, it is so shameful—as women we shouldn't speak of it."

"Maybe we should talk of it to be mindful and weary."

"Well, word is that his legion suspected that woman of giving money to the rebel cause. When she wouldn't admit to it or give them any information he let his officers have a turn with her."

"No!"

"He did indeed. All the officers, including Tarleton's had their way with her."

"General Cornwallis ordered them to let her go. But the girl was a mess when they were done with her."

"A scoundrel."

"What a fiend!"

"He does not fight like a gentleman and doesn't follow the rules of war."

"He also doesn't follow orders."

Karen could no longer concentrate on the activity in Cornwallis' office upon hearing the conversation coming out of the sitting room. A look of disbelief and shock clouded her face. _Are they really talking about my William, she thought. My William?_

"He is constantly insubordinate, but they keep him around because he is a fearless warrior."

"And what do you think of his fiancée staying there in the same house with him unchaperoned?"

"Scandalous!"

"They probably sneak in and out of each others' rooms at night." There was a hushed and naughty laughter.

"Yes-while the whole house is asleep." More laughter.

"And making her wait so long to get married!"

"Well, I have my doubts about that. Maybe she's really his personal whore that he keeps, only masquerading her as his fiancée."

There was a loud cackle of laughter that came from the room.

Karen's eyes rounded and her mouth dropped open. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her heart broke and she felt sick. She swallowed hard and walked quickly down the hallway toward the door, not stopping to greet Cornwallis.

When she stepped outside and arrived at her loaded wagon, she said nothing and managed to keep her composure as the wagon traveled home.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Mid afternoon of the same day, a couple of days after the English victory at Camden, Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon stopped at Fort Carolina as the rest of the brigade rode on home to the plantation behind Captain Wentworth. The officers needed to check in quickly at the Headquarters to let them know they were back, and pick up new assignments for the men. Once inside the hall, William and Miles split up, hoping to take care of things twice as fast so they could get home. Both were exhausted and dirty.

Colonel Tavington entered Lord General Cornwallis' office. Cornwallis was showing something on a map to General O'Hara. Tavington bowed his head to his two superior officers and stood quietly as they finished up. William listened to the two men as he slid his riding gloves off his hands.

"It skirts the mountain then extends down toward the headwater here," said Cornwallis, trailing an imaginary line across the map with his index finger, "and right across to the far bank of the Ohio River. It's one hundred thousand acres."

General O'Hara was impressed looking at the tract of land on the map. "It's an imposing land grant, my Lord. You will be a country unto yourself." He smiled at Cornwallis and Tavington, then left the office.

Tavington grinned and spoke up. "His Majesty is most generous, my Lord. Though, of course, your service in this war more than warrants such a gift."

Cornwallis wondered what Tavington was getting at. He spoke up, cautiously. "Yes. This is how his Majesty rewards those who fight for him as gentlemen."

"I dare to presume my own meager contribution will be rewarded one day?" William smiled eagerly, hoping for that long lost word of praise from his commanding officer.

"You may presume too much," Cornwallis answered immediately.

This was not the answer William wanted to hear, and it made the anxious smile fade from his mouth. Cornwallis moved from the map table across the massive office back to his desk.

"His Majesty," the Lord General continued, "like history, judges us not only by the outcome of the war, but the manner in which it was fought."

William was a bit lost. "My Lord?"

Cornwallis went on. "We serve the Crown and must conduct ourselves accordingly." Then, he cut right to the point he needed to make. "Surrendering troops _will_ be given quarter. These brutal tactics must stop!" Cornwallis' words were very firm and his tone of voice served to emphasize his serious stand on that issue.

"Is it not enough, my Lord, that I have never lost a battle?" Tavington pointed out in argument.

"You serve me, and the manner in which you serve me reflects upon me!" Cornwallis explained in an irritated voice. The General paused for a moment, realizing he was about to lose control. Wanting to maintain discretion, he spoke with a calm and composed voice as he continued on. "I would have thought that a gentleman from a family as esteemed as yours would understand that."

"My late father squandered any esteem in which we were held along with my inheritance!" Tavington shot back. He then remembered himself, that he was addressing his superior officer. The colonel regained his own composure then spoke in a quiet voice, one that pleaded with the General to understand his position. "I advance myself only through victory."

"You advance yourself only through my good graces," disputed the General, correcting William.

Tavington sighed. There was just no dealing with Cornwallis.

The General continued. "These colonists are our brethren and when this conflict is over, we will re-establish commerce with them. Do you understand, Colonel?"

"Perfectly, my Lord," William replied with forced humility and hurt embarrassment.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

The Dragoons, led by Captain Wentworth, roared onto McKinnon House Estate later that day. The men were starving so they ate first thing. Colonel Tavington, accompanied by Major Bordon were the last in, nearly two hours later, after having stopped at Fort Carolina Headquarters.

The two of them took dinner together at the recently vacated dining room table. A map of the area they had covered in the battle and their subsequent raid and patrol was spread out before them. Though both were weary, they alternately ate and discussed the outcome of their patrol, verifying points on the map of where they had been in order to aid with the Dragoon's report to Cornwallis. After a glass of wine, Bordon excused himself as Tavington bundled up the materials and took them to his room.

William was in a sour mood from being reprimanded, to add to his fatigue. Although tired and melancholy, he wanted to greet his fiancée, if only for a few moments, before retiring for some much needed rest. Earlier when he had first arrived, he noted that she hadn't come out to embrace him immediately when he returned, but deduced that she had been busy and hadn't seen him come in.

The officer went up to her room and knocked on the door. After doing this twice, he called through the door and waited for her voice. Nothing. He decided he would take just a few moments to look for her before turning in.

It was nearing sunset and the house was being prepared for evening. Colonel Tavington headed downstairs and ran into the estate's mistress in the foyer. "Good Evening, Mrs. McKinnon," he called.

"Good Evening, Colonel," she replied.

"Have you seen Miss Stirhaley," he queried.

She thought for an instant. "No, not lately. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen her since she returned with the wagon this morning."

The Colonel sighed and looked mildly concerned.

Mrs. McKinnon called to her servants in the dining room, who were busy clearing the officers' dinner dishes and lighting candles. "Have any of you seen Miss Stirhaley recently?"

"No, Ma'am," a pretty young servant answered in a cockney accent. "She didn't take lunch or dinner."

Tavington thanked Mrs. McKinnon for her help and headed outside. Entering the stable, he saw that Karen's horse was gone. He questioned the stable hands and none of them knew where she went or saw her leave, but only that her steed had been gone for quite awhile.

The Colonel, worn out and in a bad mood, sighed heavily in frustration and concern. He stood quietly in the stable for a moment, trying to decide what to do. His head ached and he just wanted to close the door of his room and lay down.

William decided to make a quick sweep of the estate on horseback to look for her. He knew he'd feel better just seeing her for a few moments. And, although exhausted, he knew that he would sleep well knowing she was safe at the house. After all, there was a war going on, it was sundown and he didn't want to take any chances.

On his horse, he headed straight to the brook near the edge of the estate by the woods, thinking she might be there. When he didn't see her there, he skirted the wooden timber fence at the perimeter of the estate. He became concerned when he saw her horse tied to a tree outside the boundary, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Tavington tied his horse to the same tree and took off on foot looking for her. Still in a bad mood and tired, his frustration at her turned to anger the farther he walked from the horses.

_This is not wise, he thought. She knows better than this. There is a war on, for God's sake! How could she be so remiss as to be off the estate at this late hour? She didn't tell anyone_ _where she was going or when she'd return. She's alone. And the daylight's_ _waning. She's smarter than that! What was she thinking? _

Finally, in the glow of the sunset, he saw a figure sitting on a boulder beneath a large tree. As he got closer, he knew it was her even though her back was to him and her head was down. She seemed unaware that anyone was approaching. William, near her now and mad at her carelessness, opened his mouth to scold her, then stopped cold. His anger dissipated and turned to compassion when he realized she was crying.

He padded quietly around in front of her and knelt down. Her face was hidden in her hands, still weeping, never acknowledging his presence.

"Karen," he began as he put his hand on her knee, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, William….William," she sobbed.

"What's troubling you?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. The sight of her tears was a heavy burden for him to bear. He wanted to take her in his arms, but she got up and walked a few steps from him. William stayed kneeling on the ground for a moment and sighed.

"I don't even know how to say it," answered Karen.

"Say what?" Tavington stood up, but stayed back from her. "Just say it."

She began to cry again. "You're a butcher…..and…..I'm…..I'm…..a whore!" Her voice stammered and broke. She buried her face in her hands again.

His blood began to boil at the thought of someone saying anything that hurtful and derogatory to his lady. Caught up in his own anger, it was a moment before he realized that she was weeping again. He regained his composure and went over to where she stood. Colonel Tavington took her in his arms and held her, letting her cry for a moment.

He questioned her. "Now, why do you say that," he asked her, his deep rich voice filled with tenderness.

"It's been said," she sobbed, hiding her face in his chest.

"By whom?"

"By everyone. It is how we are known. People think I am your mistress—a common harridan."

He demanded the details from her and she told him about the incident at the Fort Carolina main house earlier that day. He continued to hold her, listening quietly and withholding all his comments.

When she was finished, he took her by the hand and led her back over to the boulder. He sat down, and since there was room for only one on the rock, he sat her gently on his lap.

"Karen, you know it's just gossip," he comforted. "Those women, being the elitists that they are, have nothing better to do than to talk idly of others. They could better be using their time by helping our surgeons with the wounded and taking care of the sick soldiers."

He continued. "I do not care what they say for I know the truth. And you know the truth, as well," he assured, looking in to her eyes. "You are not a whore and I haven't made you one by bringing you over here. I wanted us to be together and did not want for you to have to wait for me to come back to England-I had no idea how long I'd be posted over here. And, as for chaperones, my God, the house is full of them! There are plenty of proper people to keep us innocent! Jesus Mary Joseph! I'd be kicked out the house by Mr. McKinnon himself if I was found in your bed!"

William paused for a moment to let her talk if she needed to, but she said nothing. Instead, she laid her head down on his shoulder. He stroked her hair softly and tussled her curls with his fingers. His arm went protectively around her. With her head resting on his shoulder and her face very close to his neck, he turned his head to look down at her and craned his head backwards slightly to see her face. It hurt him that she looked so sad.

He was quiet for another moment, listening to the wind rustle through the trees. Then he kissed the top of her head lingering to breathe in the scent of her brown hair.

"I think they're very jealous of you," he pointed out.

"Me? Why?" asked Karen.

"Because you are so beautiful and innocent."

"William," she blushed, looking away from him.

"You are!"

"_You_ think I am!"

"And so do all of the Dragoons and many of the officers at Fort Carolina, and the women know this. If we weren't engaged, the men would walk over each other to be your chosen one. But, I'm the one lucky enough to have you."

She smiled a little and placed her head back on his shoulder. But, she worried because he hadn't refuted the "Butcher" name. "William, they said the Generals don't respect you."

"They don't sometimes," he laughed.

"Doesn't that hurt you?"

"No, but it is frustrating. I do my duty and sometimes I feel it isn't appreciated or that the respect for me and my men isn't there, but, we are at war, and the Generals are very distracted and sometimes don't realize all the details," he stated. He paused for a moment, then continued. "I keep a stiff upper lip and just go on because I am doing the best I can do. I am confident that respect will prevail in the end with our ultimate victory."

Karen wanted William to explain why the women had said what they did. She just felt the need to know. "Will, they said so many awful things."

"Like what," he asked. Will was met with a hesitant silence from Karen. The colonel urged her on. "Just tell me what they said."

"Oh…I can't," she answered. "It's not proper."

"Darling, just tell me what you heard," he coaxed. "At least give me the chance to defend myself."

"They mentioned an incident with a woman at Charles Towne."

Tavington let out an irritated sigh. _My how fast gossip travels, he thought. _William had hoped his fiancee would never, ever hear of some of the events they had to participate in during war.

"Karen," he began slowly, "War is an ugly business. Duty can be the same."

William sat back a little and looked at Karen, trying to read her face. She looked anxious, yet innocent and unassuming. He could tell that she was hoping for the best—wanting to hear something optimistic.

"With women, we usually are gentlemen. However, in the case of resistant female spies or prisoners, we have to employ….methods….to draw out information that we need."

Karen said nothing, listening intently. She did want to believe whatever William would tell her.

"In Charles Towne," he continued, "the woman that you refer to was uncooperative. She was offered many chances and different options. She chose to remain obstinate…so we dealt with her."

Tavington watched as Karen's face clouded over, as if with doom. She was surprised, almost hoping he'd deny the accusation.

She got up from his lap and backed away from him, shaking her head in disbelief. "So you let the officers….," her voice died away, as she was unable to voice the allegation.

"Yes," he answered as he stood up. "My officers and Tarleton's all had turns with her."

"Oh, William," she groaned, closing her eyes, wishing she hadn't overheard any of what the women said. Karen regretted it all the more having her fiancé confirm that it happened. She felt like crying again.

"Karen, let me explain," he said in a gentle voice, wanting to assuage her fears.

She looked up at him, clearly disappointed, but ready to listen to him. Miss Stirhaley had already made up her mind that she would not ask William if he had participated—she preferred not to know, and to think that he didn't.

William continued. "Female prisoners present different problems and circumstances then men. The threats and coercion are different. Women respond better to the loss of their virtue."

He went on after a pause. "Needless to say, she didn't have to be threatened a second time. It only took one go around for her to decide to cooperate. She was of use to us—even afterwards." Tavington recalled trading the battered and ravished woman for one of their brigadiers.

William sighed again and shook his head. "Karen, war is a dirty business. What man would want to come home and discuss this unpleasantness with his wife? I don't want to distress you with all the ugliness. I'm sorry you have to know of it and equally sorry that you had to hear of it from those old hens."

"I understand," Karen said in a subdued voice.

"Darling this war won't last forever. When it ends, so does all the unpleasantness."

His fiancee nodded her head. She could see why he—let alone Bordon or any of the others—had not mentioned these things and would be reluctant to discuss as such.

But still Karen couldn't get the 'Butcher' comment out of her mind. "They called you 'The Butcher'. They said you kill wounded enemy soldiers and don't fight like a gentleman."

"Don't fight like a gentleman," he retorted. "You should know that's not true. Have you ever seen me act, to you or anyone, any less than a gentleman?"

"No," replied Karen. "But what about the wounded—"

"As I said before, I act as a gentleman as much as I can, unless put into certain situations. Sometimes I have no choice but to have to kill those who I perceive as a possible threat to our efforts," William interrupted. "And, sometimes, examples have to be made. It is my duty and I have to carry it out. I may not necessarily like to, but duty is duty. Besides, you know how conscientious and righteous Bordon is. You know that he'd never do anything that was questionable as far as duty is concerned nor would he let me carry out such," he prevaricated, trying to ease her mind. This was untrue; Bordon was his subordinate and had no choice but to abide by Tavington's orders, no matter what they were.

"Are you insubordinate," she asked.

"No, at least I try not to be," lied William once again. "But, as a commanding officer, I have to use initiative sometimes. And, the choices I make may not necessarily be those that another officer would make. I do what I feel is best and most fitting for the situation."

William hated talking about his duty to Karen. He felt, even though he loved her, that she nor any other woman was qualified to judge a man and how he carried out his military duties. And, out of love for her, felt that she shouldn't have to be told the details of his dangerous job. The Colonel knew that she, like all other military wives and women, already knew of the basic dangers and worried that he would be seriously injured or killed. He didn't want her to worry about the pressure of some of his actions and decisions. And, on a deeper level, he refused to justify his decisions and actions to a woman-he already had to do that enough with his superiors! Tavington only answered her questions this time because the cruel words those women had said, although some true, had upset her so.

William sat back down on the rock, pulling his fiancee back down with him. "Karen, we don't like to be harsh. We rather prefer to show leniency and are willing to make deals."

Miss Stirhaley was quiet for a moment. She had her face nuzzled into his neck, but lifted her head and laid it on his shoulder, looking outward over the land. Karen put her arms around him and sighed. She wanted to ask him about the darkest rumor of all, but didn't know if she could. But she tried to summon the strength. The girl needed to know that the man she loved was not a cold blooded murderer.

With one arm still around her waist, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. His other hand went up to the back of her head and stroked her soft hair. He loved how she needed him to protect her-and he wanted to. He'd go to war with the world to make sure she was safe. William would lay down his life for hers, if need be, in a heartbeat.

"Something's still bothering you," he observed.

"William," stammered Karen, "you don't kill women and children, do you?"

She hid her eyes in the hollow of his shoulder, sorry that she had to ask him that, and fearful of what his answer might be.

Colonel Tavington was silent for a moment as he thought. He remembered that farm from not long ago, before Camden. He recalled how the farmer and his family were treating the wounded of both sides from a battle in a field on his land.

The officer justified the decisions he had made that day in his mind. He stood by his decision to have the dispatch rider hanged, the family's home burned and property seized, all done to set an example that England would not put up with rebels or their sympathizers. William had no choice but to kill the wounded rebel soldiers, for, when mended, they would fight again. He defended killing the younger teenage brother of the dispatch rider and son of the pacifist farmer, for any young man with that much fire and emotion to fly at British soldiers to free his brother, would make yet another fierce soldier or militiaman. Tavington had to prevent one more man from fighting against the British. He felt no wrong or shame in his decisions that day, doing his duty for the glory of his King.

"No, Karen, of course not," he assured. "Only rebels." But, he did not declare his personal opinion to her that 'rebel' to him meant wife, son, daughter, father, mother, family— anyone— related to a rebel. Also to him, anyone aiding and abetting a rebel was just the same as one. They were all rebels to him and none of them could be trusted. For, anything that the rebel or his family member did, not matter how small, even if it was as insignificant as a woman giving a cold drink of water to a rebel fighter, was an act of rebellion, which was intolerable.

No. Colonel William Tavington kept this opinion to himself knowing that some things were better left unsaid.

"Oh, William, I knew you didn't," she exclaimed with relief.

"Look, darling, don't listen to anything that is said, for we know what the truth is," Tavington stated.

Karen looked into his beautiful, ice blue eyes as he said that and was captivated. She was always his prisoner when she gazed into them. Likewise, she had captured his heart long ago and he never wanted to be freed from her. They kissed deeply for a moment, forgetting themselves. He pulled back from her for an instant and studied her pretty face, softly illuminated by the muted hues of sunset, and smiled.

The twilight was fading quickly into darkness. William quipped, "We'd better get back to the house now, before dark, or there will be a new set of rumors to contend with."


	8. Chapter 8 The Butcher And The Whore

CHAPTER 8 The Butcher and the Whore 

Colonel Tavington slept well in his bed his first night home after the Camden victory. The well deserved rest was even more rewarding knowing that his fiancée was safe.

After having given a day's furlough to the Dragoons, Tavington gave up some of his own time off to attend to his commanding duties. He spent part of the morning at Fort Carolina Headquarters meeting with the Generals. The colonel turned in his maps for updates along with some captured documents and dispatches from a raid, then finished up the morning dictating his report for the Green Dragoons, detailing their part at Camden and a subsequent raid.

"You should get a copy of your report within the next two days," said Cornwallis' secretary.

"That is fine," the Colonel replied. "Thank you." With that, he gathered his helmet and gloves and walked out of the office into the hallway. He heard women's laughter echo through the hall. The officer stood for a moment and listened to it. He decided to follow the voices and soon found himself outside of a sitting room. Tavington recognized some of the officer's wives as he looked in.

William seethed instantly when he looked in at them, assuming that this was where his fiancée had been standing when she'd accidentally overheard their comments. He also figured that this was probably the same group that had made those awful remarks. It would have been so easy for him to march into their midst and give them the what for, but, wanting to remain a gentleman as far as women were concerned, he decided to leave. As he turned to go, a female voice called after him.

"Colonel," one said, "Did you think you could leave without saying hello?"

He turned and smiled cordially as he entered the room. "I didn't want to intrude."

"Oh, no intrusion at all," replied the older lady.

"Thank you, that's very kind. Good morning, ladies." He bowed slightly to the group as he entered the room. Then William greeted each lady by name, kissing their hands as he did.

The colonel politely declined a cup of tea and stayed standing the whole time, his hands clasped behind his back. He spent a few moments with them, charming them and flattering them with compliments.

"Colonel Tavington," began another of the ladies, "May I introduce you to my niece, Miss Helena Darlington, who is here visiting us for awhile."

The officer took the hand of the young beauty and kissed it. "Yes, and what a very pretty niece she is," he flirted. "Why, I fear that she is going to break all the hearts of the men while she is here. Someone should warn Lord Cornwallis ahead of time that he may lose a great many of his men to duels."

The group of women raised their eyebrows at the flattering comment as Miss Darlington blushed. There was polite laughter.

Tavington stayed a few more moments, making light conversation with Miss Darlington, as well as flirting innocently with her. Then he turned to the other ladies, charming them with his nice manners and dashing looks. He was mesmerizing the same group of women that had talked so ill of him the previous day.

"Might I be allowed to compliment all of you on your lovely dresses," commented William. "Did they come from England, or here in the colonies? No matter which, but I would like to know the name of the shop. You see, I'd like to buy a lovely new dress for Miss Stirhaley. Why, my fiancée has been so good to put up with me and my duties to the Dragoons that she deserves it!"

"Oh,……well….." stammered one of the ladies. It came across to Tavington that they weren't so willing to part with this information, maybe not wanting his Karen to have the nice things that they have or to shop at the same dressmaker they use.

He fought back a devilish grin when he realized he'd just succeeded in making them uncomfortable.

"But, I think that my Karen would put a dress, even one as lovely as yours, to shame with her beauty,"said William. "Don't you think?"

The ladies stammered. "Well…..yes, Colonel Tavington." There was nervous laughter among them as they were all taken aback with his candor.

"Well, please forgive me, ladies, but I must take my leave," he said.

"Must you leave so soon, Colonel?" asked one of the women.

"Yes. I must return to my………butcher shop……. and my whore," he said bluntly, yet keeping his polite and gentlemanly candor.

The women were astonished and speechless at his comment. How could he have known what they had said?

"Isn't that what you called Miss Stirhaley and myself?"

The ladies remained astonished and silent, too embarrassed to answer.

"I believe that is how we are known?" He acted whimsically, as if none of this bothered him. His supposed amusement with the names he and his fiancée had been called made them all peevish.

There was light, nervous laughter.

"Well, whore or fiancée, however she is called or known, she is quite a fetching beauty," Tavington began, slow and calculating. "I have heard many of our soldiers and officers compliment on her ravishing looks. They agree that she is the most beautiful_ lady_ in the Colonies—Colonist…….or English. As well as sincere, warm, and kind." He emphasized the word 'lady' in his speech. He took great delight in besting these ladies at their game. It was a noble way for him to get revenge upon them, in a polite manner, for hurting the woman he loved so deeply.

"It's been a pleasure, ladies," he said. "Good day."

He left them to wonder how he knew, and to talk about how roguish he was. Colonel Tavington sauntered down the hall with a devilish smile of satisfaction on his face thinking about how truly sweet revenge was.


	9. Chapter 9 The Heart of the ButcherThe H

CHAPTER 9 The Heart of a Butcher— The Heart of the Man 

The hospital tent at McKinnon House was busy this evening from a skirmish the Dragoons had been involved in while out hunting for 'the Ghost'. Karen was helping out within. While doing so, she watched Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon, who weren't seriously injured but sore nonetheless, moving about the tent from cot to bed to surgery table checking on their men.

The unit had come back intact. But, a surgeon informed Bordon of some unfortunate news.

Major Bordon looked around the tent, spotted his commander, then made his way over to where he was. "Colonel, the surgeon just told me we're losing two men."

Tavington had been in one of his bad moods just before the skirmish. The hospital tent had an unusually calming and humbling effect on him. But, his irritation reared its head again after Bordon's news.

"Who?" he asked in a fatigued voice.

"Bernard and Scott," answered Bordon.

"Damn it," William swore under his breath, then heaved a sigh.

This news deeply disappointed both men. Private Bernard was a young, fresh cavalryman and had been with the unit less than a year. At nineteen, he was the youngest Dragoon. The enthusiastic private was a wonderful horseman and marksman. He followed orders well, was very brave, and never afraid to try anything.

The youthful dragoon had taken a bullet to the back of his neck, shattering a vertebra and severing his spinal cord, while he was turned and reloading his gun. It left him unable to move anything from the neck down, and the surgeon said it was only a matter of hours before his lungs shut down.

Lieutenant Scott was twenty-six, married to a pretty young wife and had a small son. He showed promise as a possible leader of a cavalry unit. In fact, Tavington had recently written a recommendation for him to be assigned to a unit when a second or third in command position opened up. The Colonel had also requested a commendation for him to be promoted to the rank of Captain. In fact, William had received news early that morning before setting out that Scott was indeed to be promoted, but he hadn't had a chance to speak with him about it yet. Both Bordon and Tavington thought Scott a natural leader of men, fair, and objective. He possessed a good balance of Bordon's noble qualities and gentlemanly fairness, and a bit of Tavington's tenacity and initiative.

Scott was courageous and always concerned about his comrades and saving them. In fact, he was pulling the paralyzed Private Bernard to safety when a bullet struck him in the chest.

The two commanders split up after learning the bad news, each going to one of the dying men to sit with them awhile for comfort. William sat down at Private Bernard's bedside first.

"Well, well," he greeted, "my youngest Dragoon." He smiled at the young private.

The young man forced a smile and winced. "Pardon me, Sir, but I don't ever think I've seen you smile," said Bernard.

"Well, I used to smile more when I was your age," William remarked, "Not much to smile about with this war."

"Aye, sir," the private agreed.

Tavington leaned in closer to the young man, as if imparting a secret to him. "I'm very proud you, Private."

"You are?" Bernard was incredulous. The commander? Proud of him? A 'wet-behind-the-ears' private?

"Yes, Bernard," Tavington confirmed. "You fought very well today. I saw you, even with my own hands full. And Riggins said you killed three rebels and a horse!"

"I tried, sir," he replied, weakly.

"You are exceptional as a Private, always brave and willing to take risks! That is what makes you an extraordinary young soldier!"

"Truly," asked the young private. His heart lifted momentarily at the praise from his commander.

"Honest, son," assured Colonel Tavington. Even though he was just thirty and still young himself, he felt as though he was a kind of father figure—or at least an older brother— to these young cavalrymen, being their leader.

"But, I don't fare so well, commander. I'm sorry I got shot."

"Nonsense," exclaimed the Colonel. "We all run the same risk and you met it with great courage. I am pleased to count you among my men and proud to be your commander."

These were words that both lifted and comforted the dying young soldier. They were honest words, as well, spoken by Tavington.

Karen had brought water around to the Private as Colonel Tavington was visiting with him. She heard part of the conversation and his sincere words of praise to the young man warmed her heart. She was always touched when she saw William visiting with his wounded or dying men. He was very devoted to them. And, as she watched Will's genuine display of devotion and caring for his men, it made her love him all the more.

As she watched William interact with the young man, she remembered that dreadful morning when she overheard the officers' ladies having tea. She thought of how cruel their words were, and how wrong they were. _Those cackling old hens, she thought. If only they could see William now! They would understand and know how he truly is!_

At the same time, Major Bordon was at the bedside of Lieutenant Scott.

"Major," began the Lieutenant, "I know I only have a little while left on this Earth. I'm not afraid to die and am proud to have served my King. What I am afraid of, is what will become of my wife and child."

Bordon understood the man's fears and sought to alleviate them as best as he could.

"Your family will see to them," Bordon assured. "And, your son will grow up and take care of his mum. He will just know that he must be the head of the household in your stead. I'm sure the lad possesses the same natural leadership abilities that we have all seen in you."

"Yes," agreed the dying Lieutenant. "Before I left them last a few weeks ago, I had a talk with him and told him to be brave and watch over his mum."

"Well, ease yourself, now Lieutenant," said Bordon, "and rest assured that they will be taken care of in good manner!"

Tavington soon joined the two. He motioned Bordon to stay.

"Lieutenant Scott," began Tavington, "I had recommended you to be promoted to the rank of Captain, and also for you as an acceptable candidate for a second or third in command spot of a cavalry unit. This morning, word came back to me that you have been promoted, indeed, to Captain."

"Thank you, sir," Lieutenant Scott said with a weak smile. "I'm very honored."

"Indeed, _I_ am the one who is honored, _Captain_ Scott, " Tavington remarked, emphasizing the young man's new rank.

"Sir?"

"I am honored and pleased! I am honored to serve with such a fine young officer as yourself, and I am very pleased to see you get something you really deserve!"

"Thanks again, Colonel," said Scott, "that's very kind. May I ask that you make my wife and son aware of this?"

"I most certainly will! I am sure they will be extremely proud of you!"

The lieutenant was thoughtful for a moment. He broke the silence.

"How is Private Bernard," he asked his commander.

"Well, he is here in the tent, and the surgeons have worked on him," Tavington began. Then, he shifted the thought slightly. "You saved his life, you know. Courageous of you, as usual, Captain!"

"Oh, nothing of the sort," Scott dismissed. "I was only doing my duty. Someone would have done it for me! Was he badly hurt? I didn't think he could move his legs."

"Well, the surgeons are still unsure of his ability to walk again," Tavington fibbed, "but you saved him and he is going to live."

"Oh, thank God!" Scott sighed. "I'm very relieved. I guess I thought he was worse than he was."

"No, Scott," Tavington replied. "He'll be fine."

Tavington had lied to the Lieutenant about the Private he had rescued. He had done so for what he thought was a good reason: he would not have the Lieutenant's last hours on Earth filled with even one iota of anguish over the dying man he had just saved. William knew he'd done it with great hope that the young man had a good chance to live, not knowing there was slim to none.

Bordon excused himself and made his way to the bedside of Private Bernard.

"The Colonel was very kind to me," remarked Private Bernard to Major Bordon in a quiet voice. "He's always so harsh and firm."

"Well, he has a good heart under that tough exterior of his," stated Bordon. "He has a softness for his men."

"And his lady friend," Bernard added.

"Yes! Very much so," agreed Bordon with a sly smile. "Like all us men have for the ladies. It is a weakness, it is!"

After a moment, the private spoke to Bordon in a very hushed and secretive voice.

"I'm afraid," he imparted to the second in command.

"Try to be brave, soldier," said Bordon in a compassionate tone.

"Am I a coward?" asked the young private.

"Of course not, Private," the Major replied. "You're human. And, it's alright, son. You were brave today on the battlefield. It is only natural to be afraid now."

"Well, please don't tell Commander Tavington," the dying private requested. "I don't want to let him down!"

"Not to worry," assured Major Bordon. "I won't tell a soul."

Within an hour, Lieutenant Scott and Private Bernard both died.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Shortly after Colonel Tavington received news of their deaths, he left the command and planning tent and retired to his room. He sat down to write a letter to each of the dead dragoons' families.

Karen brought him a glass of wine, leaving the bottle knowing he'd probably want a second glass. She slipped her arms about his neck as he wrote at his desk and kissed his cheek.

"I'll be back in a little while to fix your wounds," she whispered.

"Thank you, darling," he murmured as he continued writing.

Shortly, Major Bordon rapped on the doorframe. By this time, Tavington had been at a loss for words in his consolation letters. He was now leaning back in his chair with his feet up on his desk, fatigue showing on his face.

"Bordon, if you've come to admonish me for this, then turn around and march your arse back out the door—I don't need it!" Tavington was referring to his own speculation that his second in command was most likely thinking William had unwisely involved the dragoons in this particular skirmish.

"On the contrary, Sir," countered Bordon as he entered the room. "I thought you did the best you could do given the circumstances and limits imposed on you as a commander."

"May I?" asked Bordon, pointing to the wine bottle on the Colonel's desk. Miles walked over to the sideboard against the wall near the fireplace and retrieved a wineglass. He poured himself a glass and topped off William's glass.

Tavington sighed and shook his head. "Who knows how long it will be before we get replacements."

"If we get them!" Miles retorted. "Who would want this assignment! We seem to be the favorite target of the Militia at present."

Bordon paused, then continued. "Do you want me to write those letters?"

"No. I'll do it. Just sign them."

There was quiet for a moment as Tavington was insightful. Then, he moved his legs down from his desk and shifted his tall frame in his seat. He winced in the soreness from his injuries received earlier in the day.

"It is hard," he began, taking a drink from his wine glass, "but I can accept the death of my men. I understand, as we all do, that there is death in war and we face that every day. It is part of our duty."

The colonel took another sip of wine, then sighed. "What I can't understand is the grieving. Why do we, as humans, grieve for someone who died honorably just doing their job? Why can't we just accept it, bypass the grief, and get on with things? Instead, it impedes us and we end up dwelling on it and losing sleep—all over worthy and noble men who did nothing wrong. Grief is such a mystery."

Bordon smiled. "Well, you just answered your own question. We are human."

"Miles, the Generals force me to fight and act as a gentleman, and, yes, it is cowardly to fight as rebels do. But, it sometimes gives them an advantage over us. There has got to be a way to fight them on their own terms, yet to stay within the boundary of 'gentlemanly' conduct, as Cornwallis imposes upon us. There must be a happy medium between the two." Tavington then eased himself out of his chair and walked stiffly to the window. He didn't turn back to face Bordon as he posed a question. "What do you think?"

"You don't want to know what I think, Colonel."

William was silent for a moment, then turned back to face the Major. He sighed. "Yes, Miles, I do want to know what you think."

Bordon chuckled. "I wish the whole bloody thing was over with and that we could go home, because I'm fucking tired of it all! Four years here now! Jesus Christ!"

William laughed aloud.

Bordon continued with his grumblings. The aide-de-camp rattled off a list of complaints, visually counting them out on his fingers as he listed them.

"I'm tired of the fighting. I'm sick to death of all the riding. I'm tired of the lack of supplies and soldiers. I'm tired of _waiting_ for supplies and soldiers. I'm sick of starving when we're on our long campaigns. I'm tired of sleeping on the ground. I'm tired of freezing in the winter. I'm tired of the lack of privacy. I'm tired of the soreness after the long rides. I'm tired of the residual pain of injuries that never seem to heal all the way."

The major stopped short, heaved a frustrated sigh, then finished his rant. " I'm just tired of it all. I'm worn out—done in!"

Anyone else would have been surprised to hear gripes coming from Bordon as he was always so fair and professional. But not Tavington. He'd been friends too long with Miles to know that, no matter how highly regarded his friend was, he was still human. "Well, it is very noble of you to tell the truth, but the truth is making you rather ignoble. Careful-you don't want to ruin your reputation!"

"I'm too damned tired to care about it!" Bordon shot back..

The two officers shared a laugh.

"Ah, if only His Majesty King George could hear us now," Tavington began as he sat back down, "his 'Glorious and Heroic' officers bitching, moaning and groaning about being soldiers."

"Right!" spat Major Bordon. "He probably complains louder about his job than we do about our own!"

"W ell, while we're complaining," Tavington stated, "let me take the opportunity to lament the fact that we probably won't get half the lauds and honors we deserve for our part in this war."

"Well, maybe there's a Knighthood for complaining," Bordon said, acting serious.

Both the soldiers laughed at the remark and toasted their glasses.

"Thank God we don't do this in front of the men," Bordon remarked. As commanders, they exercised discretion in complaining in front of the men. They did not want to diminish morale—the war did enough of that without their help!

"Ah, our men. How can we sit here laughing and complaining after two of our bravest have just fought and fallen?" William mused.

"Complaining is part of life, as is death," said Bordon. "And, we must have laughter and keep our wits about us. It is either that—or go completely insane!"

"Every once in awhile, I think this whole damned thing is insane," exclaimed William as he took a drink.

"I think I would like you to help me with these letters," William said. He pushed a paper and quill across the desk to Bordon.

Miles dipped his pen in the ink and set to writing right away. William said nothing as he leaned back again in his chair, lost in thought.

He broke his own silence. "You should have been made the leader of this unit, not I."

Major Bordon stopped writing and looked up at him. Despite Tavington's tough exterior, he could surprise his closest confidants every now and again by revealing some of his innermost feelings and emotions. Tonight was one of those nights.

"Nah," Bordon disagreed. "You had the drive and ambition. I just wanted to serve."

"But your qualities are better than mine," Tavington pointed out.

"Um…..not necessarily better," replied Bordon slowly, as if looking for the right word, "just different."

"I have always admired how noble and fair you are. Your intellect, wit, common sense, diplomacy," said William. "And, mostly how you stay calm and think things through, always thoughtful of the implications of words and actions."

"Funny that you say this, Tav, because I've wanted to be a little more like you," Miles indicated.

"Me? How?…Why?"

"Because you don't fear anything," Bordon answered. "You never hesitate and rush headlong into things. Diving in headfirst is not always wrong. You say that you wish you were disciplined enough to stop and think things through first before doing, but, sometimes that extra minute to think the situation through—that instant of hesitation for judgment—may have wasted a precious moment in time or cost an opportunity. Sometimes, one must take the chance and just jump right in. Throw caution to the wind."

Both men became quiet again as each thought of what had just been revealed. Neither man had even thought that the other one wished for different leadership qualities.

"Miles," William began slowly, "I do some of the things I do for the good of the Crown…..and for victory." Tavington's words were slow and calculating.

Miles Bordon knew that the Colonel was referring to some of his brutal and ruthless military tactics; his often harsh and firm ways of dealing with people, things, and situations. To Bordon, William's words sounded slightly apologetic, yet revealed no remorse for or admitted any wrong for the way he chose to handle things. The Major understood that this was within William's being, and that he himself would always be the one left to clean up any 'messes', smooth over the rough edges, repair the damage, and deal with the carnage all left behind in Tavington's wake. He accepted it with grace and not much protest.

"I know," Miles simply replied.

Within a few moments, Karen appeared with a wash basin, alcohol, and an abundance of dressings and bandages.

Together, she and William bandaged Bordon's cracked ribs sustained when a musket was swung by the muzzle into him, the butt of it causing all the damage. They passed the roll bandage back and forth to each other, around Bordon's damaged and bruised torso. They pulled the material tight to properly bind his ribs, with him wincing at every circle they made about his body. He soon carted his damaged hide out of William's room so that Karen could clean William's wounds. He removed his shirt and sat upon his bed in only his black breeches as she tended the slashes about his shoulders, back, and chest.

After she was done, she took a moment to unwrap his queue and unbraid his hair. It was still long, and fell about his shoulders and neck in long, dark waves. Karen caught her breath, then busied herself putting things in the bureau. She caught a sight of William in the mirror. Miss Stirhaley still thought he was incredibly handsome, even after the years they'd been together. She noticed that Bordon had closed the door on the way out, and was glad he did.

Karen turned to watch William for a moment, who was still seated on the edge of the bed, stretching his sore body and shaking the cobwebs out of his head. She padded quietly over to him. Standing in front of him, she hiked her skirt up slightly and straddled his lap—a very bold move for her.

William looked surprised as she did this, but didn't stop her or push her away. She cupped his chin with her hand and raised his face to hers. Then she kissed him softly on the mouth, pushing her tongue into his receptive mouth.

Karen's soft lips outlined his jaw with kisses, then moved to his ears. William drew in a sharp breath as he felt her soft, moist lips on his ear. Then she moved to his neck, trailing wet kisses down to his shoulders and collar bone. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as she did. His hands traced the outline of her shoulders and back. She took his hands and moved them to the bodice of her dress, wanting him to unlace it.

William was shocked by her boldness—usually he was the one initiating the daring moves. He pulled back to look at her.

"Now?" he asked her, eyes widening.

She looked deep into his blue eyes and answered "Yes, William. Now."

He smiled softly at her and kissed her deeply. The officer began to quickly unlace her bodice, kissing her neck as he did. She cooed when he did this, not wanting him to stop. When he was done unlacing her dress, they kissed fiercely and hard. Then, he pulled her back onto the bed with him, leaving her on top.

They continued their kisses as William rolled over to pin her down. He let out a yelp as he did and grabbed his back. The colonel grimaced as his other hand rubbed his shoulder.

Karen laid on her back on his bed looking up at him with concern. "What is it, William?" she asked.

"Damned injuries!" he answered.

"Here, let me rub your back and shoulders," she offered. She knew he was sore from the skirmish earlier.

He sat up slowly and stiffly and let her touch him. As she began to rub softly and gently, he whimpered. "God, even that hurts!"

Tavington scowled as he stretched again, shifting his body. "I'm sorry, darling. I think the only thing I'm capable of doing tonight is getting myself into a bathtub."

"Where doesn't it hurt?" she asked him.

"That's just it!," he complained. "I'm sore all over. Some rebel cracked me across the back with his musket. That's how Bordon got his ribs cracked. This bunch liked swinging their muskets more than shooting them!"

William shook his head, silently disappointed that he was missing the opportunity and the boldness of his fiancée offering herself to him.

He turned to look at her, still lying on his bed. "I'm sorry darling."

Karen stood up and laced her bodice closed, saying nothing, but disappointed. She had wanted to know what it was like to go to bed with William, and she had thought this a good opportunity. Her desire for him was controlling her moves.

He continued. "Remember? I'm saving you for the big wedding night. You'll thank me for that later!"

She rolled her eyes and sighed.

He caught her hand and pulled her to him between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"You still love me, don't you?" he joked.

"Of course," she answered. She gave him a small kiss. "I'll order some hot water for you on my way out."

She turned to leave, but he didn't let go of her hand. He pulled her back to him.

"I love you, Karen," he said, looking deeply into her eyes. He put his lips on hers and kissed her passionately.

"I love you, too," she said to him. She then touched her forehead to his and looked at him. "Get some sleep," she said.

As she walked to the door, William called after her. "Thank you," he began, simply and honestly, "for always being here for me. And for taking care of me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Miss Stirhaley smiled at him and left the room.

Later, after a tub was dragged into his room and filled with warm water, Colonel Tavington painfully slipped out of his boots and breeches. Now, completely naked, he stood in front of his mirror and cataloged his scars, many of them. He thought about how differently he felt about them when he was young, receiving his first injury at nineteen. William, at that age, loved the fact that his body had achieved some scars. It was like wearing a permanent medal of courage and bravery upon his body. And, it made him feel like a complete rogue. But now, all they did was serve as reminders that this was a long war, that he was getting on in age, and that his body didn't heal has fast as it used to. William slowly eased his aching body down into the relief of the warm water and relaxed.

The next morning, William met up with his fiancée on the stairway on their way to breakfast. As he was escorting her, they both heard pained yells coming from Bordon's quarters.

It took both of them to ease an extremely sore and stiff Bordon up and out of bed. He was in a fair amount of pain and his ribs had caused his body to stiffen up on him overnight, rendering him unable to get up from bed under his own power.

It was true: their bodies didn't heal as fast or as well as they used to!


	10. Chapter 10 A Confession

CHAPTER 10 A Confession 

'If you could only see the way she loves me,

then maybe you would understand

why I feel this way about our love

and what I must do.

If you could only see how blue her eyes can be

when she says she loves me.'

-Emerson Hart & the band Tonic, from the song "If You Could Only See"

It was a warm afternoon for William Tavington and Karen Stirhaley's picnic. The sunshine was glorious as the couple basked in it. After they'd finished with their lunch, the two were relaxed and happy from the effects of the wine and the sunlight.

William had reclined backwards, propping himself up on his elbows and squinting up into the sky. Karen was packing things back into the large basket and dumping the remainder of the wine into their glasses. She gave him his glass then took her own, both sipping leisurely without much conversation.

After a few moments, William laid back with his head cradled in Karen's lap, which always made him feel warm and secure. She put her glass down and smiled at him. The young woman lovingly stroked his hair and cheek then kissed his forehead.

The colonel teased her with a disappointed frown saying, "No. I want more than that!" He reached up, caught the nape of her neck softly with his hand, and gently pulled her head to his. There, they kissed slowly, drawing the moment out as they tasted the wine on each other's tongues.

"God, you're beautiful," William said as they parted, their faces still close. His blue eyes shone with love as he looked up at her. "Has anyone ever told you that before?" he teased.

"Only you," she answered back with a smile.

Tavington lingered there, enjoying the relaxing feel of her hands on his face and hair, enjoying being close to her. He felt something might be wrong, though. The officer broke the ease of the quiet between them.

"You're awfully quiet, today," remarked William. "Is anything the matter?"

"No," Karen replied. "Just thinking, that's all."

"About…..?" her fiancé asked.

"Oh, about different things," she answered vaguely.

"Would you like to tell me?"

"Oh, William, I don't know. It's embarrassing. It's not at all proper."

"If you can't tell me, then who can you tell?"

She sighed and was troubled. Will sensed this, sat up from her lap, and looked into her eyes.

"Come now, Karen, you can trust me," he said. He took hold of her hand and held it, his thumb stroking her skin. "We're going to be married. You can talk to me about anything."

"I know," she said, looking down and away nervously.

His other hand traveled to her chin. He put the tips of his fingers underneath it and tilted her face back up so that he could look at her.

"Karen….." he began, "What is it darling?"

Miss Stirhaley looked uncomfortable as she closed her eyes, trying to think how to say what she had to say. She opened them and sighed again.

"I…..have…," she stammered, "….. 'sinful' ……thoughts about us—especially lately. My mind wanders and I always find myself thinking of what it will be like to go to bed with you."

_My, she is blunt, he thought_. Colonel Tavington tried to alleviate the discomfort of her confession by teasing her. "Is that it? My dear girl, you don't need me…… you need a priest!"

"William!" she snapped. "I didn't want to admit it, but you made me say it!" His fiancée was momentarily cross with him and he knew it.

"Alright. I know. I'm sorry," he apologized, trying to calm her. "I think about it as well, surely as much as you think of it."

"But, yet, you always stop things before they get out of hand," challenged Karen.

"Not always. You stop me sometimes, too," Will pointed out.

"I know," Karen admitted. "But next time, I don't think I'm going to stop you."

"Then I will stop myself," Tavington vowed.

"Why?" she questioned. She sounded emphatic to know an explanation wherefore he would not take her if she offered herself freely.

"Because I am in control of myself," stated the Colonel, almost proudly.

"Your self control is an admirable quality," Karen commented sarcastically, her frustration and disappointment showing through .

"Yes, but it can be a curse when I want to control others," he remarked offhand.

"Maybe I should just be bold and seduce you," she blurted out.

"Your mere presence damn near does that anyway!" he exclaimed.

"Don't men like brazen women," she asked.

"Sometimes, but I find virtue more alluring."

"Why?" Miss Stirhaley thought men wanted to be seduced, since they were most generally the aggressors toward their women.

"Because innocence is attractive and charming," answered William. "It is very powerful in a quiet kind of way. It is unobtainable. It is pure. It is worth the wait and will therefore be more meaningful once one stains it."

"It excites you to know that you'll be spoiling me," she asked.

"Yes, of course! To know that I was the one to take your virtue. An act of love—"

"You wouldn't be taking it," she cut him off. "I would give it to you."

"You see, it fills my heart all the more to know that you trust me enough, and love me that much that you want me to have it," William remarked.

Karen said nothing as she leaned into him. Her lips brushed lightly against his. Then she kissed him a little harder. She pulled back to face him, both still seated on the blanket. The girl reached her hand out to touch his cheek, then his chin, which she took in her hand as she kissed him again, slowly. Her wet mouth traced soft, light kisses along his cheek and jaw line.

"William, if you love me then take me now," she murmured.

He pushed her back gently. Tavington _did_ want her then, desire warming his groin and making his head spin. But, control was always such an issue to him and he prided himself on his self restraint. He could always stop himself.

"Karen, believe me," he began emphatically, "I want you. But if we succumb to our desire, then I may leave you with a child. What if something should happen to me in battle?"

"Nothing will happen, William! Besides, we are engaged and have been for a long time."

"But that doesn't mean that it won't result in a baby," Tavington countered.

"It would be no different than if we were married and it resulted in a child," she argued.

"Yes it would," he disagreed. "For you would be left with a bastard."

"Oh, William!"With that, Miss Stirhaley leapt to her feet, heaving a frustrated sigh. The usually patient Karen became momentarily irritated with waiting. Waiting for William to marry her. Waiting to finally go to bed with the man she loved and spend her pent up sexual frustration. Annoyed at the good excuses as to why they shouldn't have congress before marriage. Irked that William could control himself and his urges.

His fiancé picked up the basket and turned away from him. He knew she was upset with him.

"Why, now, do you want this after being together for so long with nothing?" he asked. William was thoroughly confused. "We have waited this long. We can wait a little longer until we are married."

"Which is when?" demanded Karen, irritated.

"Soon, I promise you," said William.

"William, you told me 'soon' years ago!"

"Yes, I know, and you have been very patient," he apologized, "but with the war and—"

"Colonel", she interrupted, addressing him formally which he hated her to do as he knew it meant anger, "I may be a virgin, but I still have desires that…..well……that need to be met. I am only human!"

"Yes, I know and I understand," he said trying to assuage her anger. "Just be patient a little while longer."

Her eyes narrowed. She still loved him, and he felt she did. But her irritation was no secret to him at this moment. "I'm through with you, William Tavington!"

Karen turned in a huff and stomped over to her horse, thoroughly intending to ride away.

William stood quietly for a moment as he thought about the situation. He knew she wasn't breaking up with him, per se, but merely taking a frustrated leave of him. The officer smiled and looked down at the ground, chuckling to himself. _Well, desire and lust are finally catching up to her ,he thought. They've haunted me all these years! What am I to do? _

After another minute of thinking, he made a decision. William then walked over to her and grabbed the reins of the bridle from her hand, stopping her from taking off.

"Karen—"

"Marry me…….or take me to bed, William!" , she exclaimed, cutting him off sharply.

William Tavington said nothing as he thought about her ultimatum. He could go ahead and lay with her. He knew that withdrawal from a woman was one possible way to stave off a pregnancy. Also, he could pleasure her other ways. But, he knew this might lead to either one of them giving in to desire at the peak of their lust in a foreplay situation.

Lastly, he could go ahead and do it, taking a chance. If she did get pregnant, he would just go ahead and marry her. They were engaged, anyway. But, the colonel preferred to wait until some of the battles and fighting settled down.

William loved her anyway, no matter what they did. She didn't deserve to have to wait on him any longer—either for marriage or sex. _Oh, bloody Hell, he thought._

Colonel Tavington quickly came to a decision. "Alright," he acquiesced to her demand quietly and in a dignified manner. The officer took her hand and led her back to the blanket.

Once there, William kissed Karen, and she leaned into him, with an inward anticipation and satisfaction. He pulled her curvy body to his, loving how she fit him perfectly. She reached up his tall frame and slid her arms about his neck.

They kissed for another moment before William went down on his knees, pulling her down with him. There, he kissed her mouth deeply and she accepted his tongue. Karen pushed her tongue into his as well.

Their mouths lingered in a long kiss, before they separated. He moved his mouth along her jaw and neck. Then, his warm lips found her ear, nibbling on it and sending chills through her body.

"Oh, William," she whispered as he continued.

Karen began to kiss his neck. As she did, her hands moved from his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms and across his chest. She could feel him tense at her touch.

She trailed her fingers down farther until she found the buttons of his waistcoat. Nervously she began to undo the gold buttons on his vest. He slipped it off as he continued to kiss her. From there, she pulled his shirt up out of his breeches. Her fingers then wandered up to his stock, which she untied with the help of his hands steadying hers, which were shaking. His lips left a wet trail along her jawline and to her ear, making her coo softly. Her fingers undid the buttons on his shirt until he stopped her to pull it off over his head.

Karen gazed at his bare chest and shoulders then looked down, feeling suddenly shy. His fingers touched her chin and brought her face up to look at him. He could tell that even though she had given him a bold ultimatum, and had done so out of virginal frustration, he understood she was still nervous. Will touched her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. His lips came down to meet hers again in slow, soft kisses. His hands moved all over her body, but came to rest on her bodice. His fingers deftly unlaced her dress as they continued their kiss.

William pushed her gently down beneath him on the blanket when her dress was almost completely untied. His lips lingered another moment on hers, then moved down her neck. From her neck, his mouth left a sensual trail of wetness across the top of her chest. He could sense her heart beating faster and louder as his lips traced the outline of the top of her bodice on her skin.

Colonel Tavington stopped his kisses for a moment to take hold of the shoulders of her dress, which he slid down her arms. Then, with a last pull on the bodice, it slipped down off her chest freeing her breasts. Her sleeves were down low on her arms and bunched up at her wrists, the dress stretching across her abdomen making her feel somewhat restrained. She didn't mind, though. She was anxious for William's next move. He hovered above her for a moment, quietly intoxicated by the beauty of her now bare chest.

Soon, his mouth crashed down hard on hers in a furious kiss. As it did, his hands caressed her bare breasts. He ran his fingers around and over her nipples, making them become taut. Karen emitted a subdued moan as he did this, having never felt a man's hands touch her there before. She didn't want him to stop. William's mouth moved back down her neck again as his hands continued to feel the softness of her naked bosom.

Tavington's hungry mouth sought her bare chest. Suddenly, he caught one of her pink nipples in his warm mouth.

"Oh William," she cried out as she felt this sensation for the very first time. She threw her head back into the blanket and closed her eyes. His lips and tongue teased the bud until it was even harder. Then his mouth let go of it, moving to the other nipple, in turn.

"Oh…..Oh…." Karen cooed and arched her back as if to press her breast further into his eager mouth. His tongue circled it, then his lips clamped down on it, sucking it insistently.

"William…….Oh……Oh God…..," she murmured. The pulling and tugging on her nipple by his mouth was driving her to a frenzy. She could not wait for more from him and was eager to get him inside of her.

His mouth left her bare chest suddenly. She felt barren and cold, wondering why he stopped and wanting him to continue. She opened her eyes to find him again hovering over her, admiring her bareness and smiling.

"Karen," he said breathlessly in a low voice. His fingers stroked her breasts again as his mouth came down to meet hers. She moaned into his mouth as it covered hers.

After that kiss, he moved back down to wet her nipples again with his mouth. He continued to trace his tongue over them and gently suck the pair into little peaks. As he did, one of his hands found its way under her petticoats and ran the length of her leg, stopping on the inside of her thigh to rest there a moment, teasing her further.

Suddenly, the couple heard a horse ride up, abruptly ending their intimate encounter. They stayed still as they heard rustling within some nearby scrub.

"Ah….bloody Hell," William cursed under his breath as he pushed himself up on his elbows to look around. He wondered where the rider had gone.

"William?" whispered a worried Karen.

"Shhhhhhh," he quieted her. William grabbed his jacket and threw it around her to guard her from prying eyes, for her chest was still bared and her dress at her waist. The officer reached for his gun and sabre, the holster and sheath still hanging on their belt which lay just to the side of the blanket. Tavington quickly pulled his dagger out of his boot and placed it in his fiance's hand, wanting her to have a weapon for defense.

Karen pressed herself against William's body. He pulled her even closer and locked his arm tightly around her protectively. Then he whispered into her ear, "If something should happen to me, Karen, I want you to take the gun and sword and don't be afraid to use them!"

She nodded, too afraid to say anything.

William decided not to call out on the slim chance that maybe they had just heard a rider on the path who had stopped close by, but may not have noticed them. He hoped it wasn't militia. Even though they'd heard only one horse, the militia thrived on hit and run sneak attacks, lying low and quiet in the shrubs, catching their victims off guard.

They waited another tense moment as they saw movement in the woods on the path. Colonel Tavington cocked his pistol, ready to shoot it, and held his sword up in the other hand, ready to strike. His fiancée held the dagger up and in front of her ready to defend herself if need be, and tried not to look scared. Soon, a red coated soldier, black riding breeches, boots, and unmistakable green trim and black feathered helmet, emerged into the clearing.

The soldier saw the two scared figures aiming their weapons in his direction. "Uh,….I surrender!" he said, half jokingly, putting his hands in the air.

"Bordon! Damn it!" cursed an irritated Tavington as he lowered his weapons. Though annoyed momentarily at his adjutant, he was relieved that it wasn't rebels.

Major Bordon thought he sounded the same as he did every day lately—angry, irritated, and short tempered. Just another normal day!

"Thank you for not killing me, sir," Bordon jeered as he lowered his hands. He walked closer to them and noticed the couple's state of dress—or, undress. Tavington was shirtless with his breeches and boots, and Karen's bodice was unlaced and hanging open as if she'd quickly pushed it back up on her shoulders. She was wearing William's Dragoon jacket over the top of the disarray, but Miles could still see the details clearly. The Major knew immediately that he'd interrupted an intimate moment between the two lovers.

"This better be good, Bordon," scoffed Tavington as his aide-de-camp neared the pair. Karen turned her back, quickly laced up her dress, and smoothed her hair, trying to make herself look presentable.

Bordon continued. "Sorry to interrupt your romantic interlude, but—"

"They want us at headquarters," Tavington chimed in, finishing Bordon's sentence, guessing exactly why he was there.

"That's right!," Miles answered. Then he added with a grin "I'm also here to charm your fiancée."

"She doesn't need charmed, thank you very much!" Tavington answered sarcastically. "She's been charmed quite enough already today." William said this while looking at Karen, love and sweetness for her in his eyes. This completely disarmed her. She smiled lovingly back at him and kissed him. She didn't care that his best friend was standing there watching.

"Well, I'll steal her away from you, then," joked Bordon, changing his mind.

"Ah," said Tavington, meeting the challenge of Bordon's joking. He raised one of his eyebrows as he looked at his second in command. "You've come to steal my lady?"

"Entirely!" exclaimed Miles. He turned to Karen immediately. "Marry me, Karen. This rogue _can not_ possibly make you happy."

Karen Stirhaley blushed then squealed with laughter and delight.

Major Bordon turned back to William, who was putting on his waistcoat, shirt, and overcoat. "I would not have made her wait this long. We'd have long since been married and had some little Bordons at our heels."

"How dare you even think of having children with my future wife. You besmirch her innocence—"

"Which you should have done already and married her long ago," interrupted Bordon with a quip. " See, Tav, it's all very easy. I'll demonstrate."

Bordon then went down on one knee in front of Karen as if readying to propose to her. As he took her hand, she smiled, blushed and shrieked with laughter simultaneously.

"Karen, Will you marry me?" , Miles proposed in his best look of faux seriousness.

"Yes!" She answered without missing a beat.

"Now?" Bordon asked.

"Of course!"

"Good!," Bordon cheered. "I have a church, a priest and two witnesses waiting for us!" He grabbed her hand and started to lead her away with him.

"Goodbye, William," she said in a sing song fashion, letting the man lead her and joining in with Bordon's joke.

Tavington stood there with a smirk on his face. The commander stared at the couple with a mixture of amusement and minor annoyance as they neared the horses.

Then he caught up to them and grabbed Karen's other hand, pulling her back with him. "Uh, not so fast, Major," Tavington said.

The major still had ahold of her other hand, and pulled her back to him, as if she was a rope in a tug-of-war contest. "Oh, I don't know," countered Miles. " 'Karen Bordon' has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"No," the Colonel answered squarely, gently tugging his fiancée back to him. "Karen Tavington sounds much better!"

Bordon pulled Miss Stirhaley back to him. "That was a real proposal and she knows I have every intention of marrying her. She wouldn't have to wait on me as she has you!"

As Karen was being heaved back and forth during this mock battle between the two commanders, she said nothing and grinned an impish smile during the whole exchange.

Bordon let go of Miss Stirhaley's hand, surrendering the girl. "You see, Tav old boy, that's how you do it! It's just that easy."

"Well, now mind you don't forget who's wife she is going to be," Tavington challenged mischievously.

The second in command turned back to Karen, who stood quiet, yet amused, between the two men who towered over her. "You would marry me, wouldn't you?"

Karen said nothing, instead smiling widely at Major Bordon. She nodded her head 'yes' vigorously up and down. Then she looked at William, who was scowling at her. The young woman then frowned and feigned embarrassment, as she looked down at the ground. In an instant, she looked back up at Tavington and shook her head 'no' slowly, with mock disappointment.

"Tav, if you don't want _me_ to marry her, then I advise you to get her to a church soon," joked Bordon.

"Silence both of you," exclaimed Karen, finally speaking up. "Captain Wentworth has asked me. I may marry him instead." The young lady entered the joke now, as well.

"And there is always General O'Hara," she continued. "He hasn't proposed to me yet, but I'm certain he will."

Miles and William both rolled their eyes at this last mock revelation. The general was both men's latest thorn in the side.

"And why would you marry him," Tavington asked in disdain.

"I hear he's a rather handy fellow in the bedchambers," she answered bluntly.

Miles Bordon was immediately shocked and embarrassed, think this the last thing he would ever hear come out of Miss Stirhaley's mouth.

"Karen! Really!," William protested, a tone of admonishment in his voice. "Who did you ever hear that from?"

A sly smile crossed her face. "His mistress," she volunteered. "Madeira seems to loosen her tongue. She bragged of her satisfaction with him and his……stamina…in her bed."

Bordon stayed silent, only shaking his head at the revelation. William demanded more.

"When was this," he queried, raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

"At a ball a few months back," replied Karen as she bent down to pick up the blanket. "She said this in the company of a large group of women, so I would imagine that General O'Hara has become a very popular man as of late."

"Sounds like our friend Banastre may have some competition among the fairer sex," Tavington remarked aloud. He smirked at Bordon.

"Don't tell _him_ that," warned Bordon. "It will break his poor heart. He thinks he is the only desirable man in the world." This made Will and Karen laugh.

"I am not even going to divulge the women's gossip about Colonel Tarleton," she interjected as she finished folding the blanket.

The pair of officers chuckled at this. They had probably already heard what the ladies said about him.

" His exploits with the ladies are legendary," Tavington remarked.

"Yes. He told us so himself," Bordon quipped of their braggart fellow commander.

Karen laughed heartily at the Major's comment. William took the folded blanket from her and laid it over his arm as the trio made their way to the horses.

The three secured the picnic supplies back on to their horses as they prepared to leave. As they did, Tavington couldn't resist one last quip to his best friend and his fiancé.

"So, if my best man and bride fail to show up at the church on our wedding day, then I will assume that you two have eloped!"


	11. Chapter 11 A Dance With An Officer

CHAPTER 11 A Dance With An Officer

"Alright. Fine patrol, men," Bordon commented with a smile. "Always good when there are no rebels to deal with." Low manly laughter arose from the small group of dragoons assembled around the second in command. The group was a little fidgety, but respected the Major, so stood politely waiting for him to finish.

"See Captain Wentworth for your new assignments," he said in closing. "Dismissed!"

The tired group fell out without any conversation, ready to hit their beds. The stable boy collected their mounts as the men walked wearily toward the tents.

Major Bordon yawned as he looked with exhausted eyes around at the bustling on the estate. Groups of soldiers were finishing up breakfasts and readying to leave. Servants were going about chores here and there. The din seemed somewhat muffled to Miles. The overnight patrol always seemed to leave his senses dull in the morning.

While waiting for his horse to be taken back to the stables, Miles extended his arms over his head, stretching with a low groan. He shook the cobwebs out of his head, trying to stay awake long enough to make the trek up to the house. The aide de camp sighed, thinking about how good his bed would feel.

Wondering if the stable boys had forgotten him, he began to lead his horse back to the barn himself. He heard Mrs. McKinnon calling after him. The officer stopped, turned slightly, trying to wake up enough to at least appear alert.

"Yes, Ma'am," he acknowledged as she made her way to him.

"Major, the kitchen staff is in need of Miss Laura," she began, "and I sent her down near the creek to fetch some flowers. Do you have any men available to collect her and bring her back?"

Bordon looked around, amazed at how fast his dragoons had scattered. "No," he answered wearily, "but I'll be glad to go get her myself."

"Thank you," answered the lady as Bordon put his riding gloves back on. He nodded his head with a tired smile then mounted his steed.

As he started to walk away, the lady called back to him. "Oh, she has Miss Stirhaley with her," she added.

Bordon nodded again as he let out a sigh. _What_ _was another few moments awake,_ _thought Miles._ He'd already been up riding all night.

Taking off at a trot, he pushed his heels into the horse's ribs urging him to a gallop after he cleared the barns and outbuildings. He looked out for the two ladies as the horse made its way across the fields. After some time he neared the perimeter of the estate, a log fence, where he surveyed the wood line, hoping to see the two women making their way out.

"Where are they?" Miles looked up and down again, then back across the meadow, not seeing anyone. He shook his head and sighed as he urged his animal toward the pathway into the woods.

Miles ducked his head as he moved under a low branch as the horse walked into the woods. The officer could hear only the babbling of the creek and some birds as he walked along the path.

"Oh, blast," he swore as he stopped along the path. Looking up and down the creek, he was alone. Bordon clicked his tongue twice, moving the horse down through the shallow water. Once on the other side, he walked a few more feet before realizing he was now off the estate.

The Major was puzzled, and a little irritated as he looked for Karen and Laura. Mrs. McKinnon had made it sound like the ladies were just around the corner—or at least that is how Bordon's tired mind perceived it.

He trotted out and hit a cow path within a few moments. The officer looked cautiously up and down, then crossed it, always aware that rebels or bluecoats maybe on the roadway. Once on the other side he dismounted his horse then moved into a thicket to relieve himself.

After taking care of nature, he grabbed the reins and walked the horse down a narrow path. He listened for a moment, hearing girlish laughter to one side of him. Miles spotted some movement a few yards down and recognized the girlish figure of Laura. As he did, he felt a vibration in his booted foot on the ground.

He listened again then pulled his long glass quickly from his saddlebag. Training it down the road, through the foliage he could see men on horses, galloping his direction. His horse was tied into the thicket, aptly hidden. The officer ran quickly and quietly toward the two women, who went on giggling and talking, unaware of the approaching danger.

Miles reached Laura first, grabbing her quickly, putting his gloved hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened to see him. He put his finger to his lips, "Shhhhh…" he motioned, almost no sound escaping as he did. The servant girl complied as Major Bordon grabbed her hand. He mouthed, "Where's Karen?"

Laura pointed silently to her companion. Bordon, still holding Laura's hand, lead her softly and silently over to where Miss Stirhaley was standing.

Karen was pulling some berries from a bush, unaware that the servant was no longer doing the same. Miss Stirhaley jumped as she felt a gloved hand clamp down over her mouth, and was pulled backward into some bushes. Scared, she struggled against her assailant, who was strong.

Bordon, his hand still over Karen's mouth, was afraid that the group on horseback that would soon pass them, would either hear the lady's muffled cries or see her struggling in the brush. The officer, still holding Karen, pulled her around slightly so that she could see it was him, never removing his gloved hand from over her mouth.

He saw realization and relief in her eyes, then felt her sigh and stop struggling. Bordon turned loose of her as he motioned for her to be quiet and stay down. He was between both Karen and Laura, arms about both, as he urged them to get as low as possible to the ground within the bushes. The major made a silent, pointing gesture toward the road. Within an instant, a small band of rebels thundered by on horseback, stirring up dust, in which the hidden trio tried not to breathe in lest they cough.

After a minute or two, Bordon peered both directions down the roadway, trying to catch sight of any stragglers. When he saw none, he let the two women up then broke the silence.

"Mrs. McKinnon sent me out to find you. What are you doing out here without an escort," asked the officer angrily. "There are rebels and bluecoats all around here!"

"We were gathering berries for Mrs. McKinnon," Laura began timidly.

"Yes, I know why you're out here," he swore in an annoyed voice. "You shouldn't be out here without protection."

Miss Stirhaley looked down and noticed that Bordon was absently holding the girl's hand. She smiled and said nothing about it. She had seen the way the officer and Laura sometimes exchanged glances in passing.

"Yes," Karen spoke up. "She wants to send two pies to the ball at the Middleton's tonight."

The tired officer stopped and stood stiffly. "Oh, is that tonight?" A sour look crossed his face.

Karen nodded. "Why? You don't want to go? William said that you and the other officers were going."

"Yes,…but," stammered Miles, caught off guard, "it's just that we are never _asked_ to go, we are just expected to attend. To show up in our finest, be gentleman, and exchange boring pleasantries with the Generals." The officer bristled then continued. "We stand by quietly while the Lord General and O'Hara accept all the accolades for 'a job well done'."

The two ladies smiled at Bordon's discomfort. Only then did he realize that he still had ahold of Laura's hand. He discreetly dropped it, hoping not to make a show of it in front of Karen.

Realizing that they were still off the estate, his irritation at the two ladies returned. "Listen, you two," he began, "you've just seen with your own eyes how close the rebels are getting. It's not safe for you to be out here. The enemy is getting brave, raiding loyalists farms, and drawing ever near to the fort. I am not going to tell you what militia does to unescorted loyalist women, because it wouldn't be proper. But just use your imagination and think the worst."

Both women looked down sheepishly, then back up at the officer. They had apologetic looks on their faces then smiled playfully at each other.

The officer wanted to bring them back to seriousness. "Don't let me catch either of you out here again without an escort," scolded Bordon. "Or else…."

The last two words hung ominously for an instant, but disappeared with Karen's playfulness. "Or else what…" she challenged with a mock look of concern.

"Or else Colonel Tavington will have my head on a platter," he answered sternly.

"Shall we call you 'John the Baptist', then," Laura asked shyly.

Bordon let out a sigh as he grabbed both women's wrists and led them back toward his horse. "You can call me a '_dead man'_ if I don't get you back to the house now."

The trio made their way across the road and creek, glad to be safely back on the estate. As they neared the house, Karen broke away to speak with a group of people. As she did, Bordon caught Laura's hand and pulled her into the barn.

There alone with her, he stole a kiss from the girl. Then he pushed her against the wall, pinned her there and kissed her again, sensually. Laura tried to push him away, knowing the mistress would be looking for her.

"Major…please…" she gasped as kissed her again. She felt his hand slip under her skirt and move up her leg. Laura sighed as he slipped his fingers into her. She kissed him ardently, then protested.

"You were sent to fetch me," she said as he continued to tease her, nuzzling her neck. "Mrs. McKinnon wants me now."

"I want you now, too, darling," he teased through his kisses. His fingers raked back and forth softly over her wetness.

She was finally able to push him away, reluctantly though for her. "They'll be looking for me," she insisted.

Bordon caught her arm and pulled her back to him, stealing another kiss. "Come to my chambers tonight after the ball," he whispered.

She kissed him back. "Very well, then."

After Laura left, Miles stabled his horse and headed to the house. Upon arrival in his quarters, he promptly collapsed on his bed, uniform still on, and slipped into a much needed sleep.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

_Well! Here we are, AGAIN! Another ball at Middleton Place, AGAIN!, thought Colonel_ _Tavington. _

William Tavington and his fiancée, Miss Karen Stirhaley, stood in the company of Major Miles Bordon and Captain James Wilkins on the back terraced lawn of the grand estate, looking out over the Ashley River. They were the guests of yet another formal party, one of many, at Middleton Place. It was only an half hour into the thing and Colonel Tavington was already bored stiff.

He hated these functions, but, knew that as an officer, he had to attend. Will looked around at all the rich, haughty upper class people in disapproval. This was all so fake to him and the only things he liked about these events were the company of his own officers, some good quality alcohol, and enjoying how beautiful Karen was in a ball gown. He especially loved how the low plunging necklines of her formal dresses showed off the womanly curves of her bosom.

Likewise fellow officers Bordon and Wilkins stomached the parties. However, they liked the attention of the pretty young girls who liked to attend for the older, handsome officers like them!

"Oh, please forgive me," said William sarcastically and off the top of his head. "I'll try to contain my excitement. After all, this is the hundredth or so party we have attended since we've been here! Really, now. There are only so many of these things a General can throw in one lifetime, isn't there?"

He took another drink of wine as his fiancée looked at him. She gave him one of those sideways glances that seemed to say, "Now, William, behave yourself." Then she smiled at him and he grinned a devilish grin back at her.

Peels of laughter went up from a gaggle of young women in a group twenty feet away from them. Tavington's bunch turned to look and saw Colonel Banastre Tarleton, the center of attention in this group, surrounded by a bevy of young, pretty girls.

Bordon and Wilkins both shook their heads and sighed.

"Damn!" Bordon swore in frustration. "We haven't got a chance with him around!"

"Yeah!," agreed Wilkins. "How does he do it?" The major and captain were always astounded and incredulous at how many women Tarleton could attract in one night.

"Charm, my boys," William answered wistfully. "Charm."

Just then, one of the servants passed a message to the Colonel. The officer read it and let out an audible sigh.

"Would you please excuse me," said William. "Seems I am being summoned by Lord Cornwallis."

William took Karen's hand and kissed it, then turned to Bordon and Wilkins with a request. "Would you please look after her while I'm gone so that she, too, doesn't fall under the spell of that scoundrel, Ban!"

Tavington left his friends behind as his feet carried him into the mansion and up the stairs to the room where Cornwallis was readying himself for the party. There, he joined the General and his dresser and tailor, who were fussing about his uniform. Recently, a shipment of his Cornwallis' personal items, including correspondence, diary, and new uniforms, had been stolen by rebels. He had no formal party uniform to wear, so one had to be made for him at the last minute. He hated it.

"It is a horse blanket!" Cornwallis complained, looking at the wretched thing in his mirror.

"Oh, I don't know, my Lord," Tavington commented. "It's really quite nice." He thought the tailor had done a fine job on it, considering the pressure Cornwallis had probably put him under to get it done.

"Very well. It's a nice horse blanket!" remarked Cornwallis. He then turned away from the looking glass back at William. "Colonel Tavington. Why, after six weeks, am I still here in Middleton Place attending a ball in South Carolina when I should be attending balls in North Carolina!"

He continued on before William could answer. "First the theft of my personal baggage including my memoirs upon which I spent countless hours. Then, half the bridges and ferries between here and Charles Towne burned. Colonel, if you can't protect our supply lines against militia, how do you intend doing so against the Colonial Regulars or the French when they arrive?"

"My Lord, they won't fight like regulars," William spoke up. "We can't find them."

"Colonel, they're militia!" retorted Cornwallis. "They are farmers with pitchforks!"

"They're rather more than that, I'm afraid, my Lord." Tavington disagreed. "Made so by their commander…..this…..Ghost."

Cornwallis had had enough of hearing all his men talk about the 'Ghost' and his exploits. "Oh, Ghost, ghost, GHOST! You created this ghost, Colonel!"

"My Lord?"

"Your brutality has swelled his ranks without which this ghost would have disappeared and I would be in North Carolina or Virginia by now," the General pointed out.

William protested. "In my defense—"

"Oh, enough, ENOUGH!" interrupted Cornwallis. He waved off any comment from Tavington, not wanting any more excuses. "A fine soldier you are, bested by a bedtime story!" He turned back to his dresser and tailor. "Give me the horse blanket."

Colonel Tavington rolled his eyes. The General was taking any opportunity he could find to reprimand his Colonel. William headed back out to the party. He needed a drink.

An hour or so later, all the officers and guests were out on the lawn when Cornwallis noticed that a ship was moored in the shallow baywater across from the Middleton residence. He was pleased.

"O'Hara, Our supply ship appears to have arrived!"

"Yes! Yes," he answered nervously. "Yes it has!"

"Then why am I still wearing this rag?" asked Cornwallis. He wondered why his replacement wardrobe hadn't been delivered immediately to the house so that he may wear one of his uniforms to this event.

"My Lord," began O'Hara, "Your replacement wardrobe is aboard ship but Colonel Tavington thought it best to secure our arms and munitions first. They are being unloaded now."

Suddenly, there was the sound and vibration of a huge explosion. The ship had blown up, most certainly with supplies and Cornwallis' precious replacement uniforms still on board.

Tavington, standing with his group, downed his drink fast right after this happened, then threw the glass to the ground. He grabbed a drink off of the tray of a server standing nearby and downed that one equally as quickly, tossing the empty glass over his shoulder. He then took off in search of another drink tray. He was most certain that Cornwallis would find a way to blame the ship exploding on him, or to criticize him for having the munitions and weapons unloaded first, a wise decision he had thought, instead of the other supplies.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Later at the party, Colonel Tavington and Miss Stirhaley were talking with Major Bordon and Captain Wilkins when a messenger handed William a note. He smiled and laughed aloud as he read it silently. The other three noticed that this was the first time his tense mood had eased since the ship had blown earlier in the evening.

"It figures," chuckled the Colonel as he folded the note and slipped it into his jacket.

The three looked at him inquisitively.

"They couldn't save the ship," he began, "but they bloody well saved the mail!" William was very amused and laughed aloud.

"Cheers," Bordon exclaimed wildly and loudly. He tapped his wineglass against Wilkins' as if to toast the fact.

"Yes. It has already been taken over to the Fort," said William.

"We can get it on our way home," Wilkins offered.

"There's three large bags," Tavington stated.

"Oh."

"We can take it back with us in the carriage if you two will help me load it," said William. "The men will be anxious to get their mail since it's overdue. We'll pass it out first thing in the morning. For God's sake, don't tell anyone or the men will be banging down our bedroom doors wanting it tonight!"

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Within minutes, the group left the ball to return home by way of Fort and Bordon had ridden their own horses over to the ball, so they had to change from their formal uniforms back to their regular riding uniforms, not wanting to ruin the dress outfits. They were only a few minutes behind Tavington's coach and he was at the fort's storeroom waiting on them when they arrived.

Karen was waiting in the yard of the Fort alone. It was active this night. The store room clerks were busy unloading and inventorying everything that had come off the ship before it exploded. There were two different campfires going within the compound with soldiers huddled around them, occasional laughter rising above the flames. She looked to her right and saw a group of soldiers and civilian fort and camp workers milling about with instruments.

Within a few moments, the three men had the carriage loaded with the joined her fiancée, Wilkins and Bordon as they walked toward the coach. She said nothing and left them to their conversation, already in progress.

"Let me apologize again," stated Tavington. "Had I known the clerks would be dealing with all this tonight, I wouldn't have dragged you two from the ball for your help."

"We need to get back, anyway," said Major Bordon. "Captain Wentworth is on duty early tomorrow morning and we need to relieve him of his command so he can get some kind of sleep tonight!"

About this time, a lively Irish reel wafted through the compound. Karen looked in the direction of the music. It was coming from the group she'd seen earlier with instruments.

Her face lit up to hear the sound of Irish music. She looked to her right at Bordon and he was grinning brightly at her. Their eyes locked and eyebrows raised, each knowing what the other was thinking. In an instant, she and Bordon ran toward the music, hand in hand, being unable to resist the chance to dance an Irish reel.

When they got to the group she'd noticed it had grown. Aside from the soldiers playing, there were now three couples dancing to the music. She thought that the women must have been servants, wives of soldiers, or camp followers. But that made no difference to her—she just wanted to have a dance with Bordon. Soon, the two of them were dancing hand in hand with the other three couples. The musicians had launched into a raucous version of "The Bonnie Blue Flag," an upbeat jig.

"So, there is a provisional, sort of, third in charge," said Wilkins, continuing his conversation with the Colonel, "if need be?"

"Yes. For instance, when I was down with injuries awhile back, it was known I would be out for some time," Colonel Tavington replied. "So, at that time, we made Lieutenant Scott a 'provisional' third in charge. It was deemed needed as I wasn't even fit enough to sit and do paperwork and administrative duties. If I could have, we wouldn't have needed the third man. Sometimes, if Banastre Tarleton's regiment is in the same place, one of us, being of same rank, may give the other time off and take over command of both regiments. That is tremendous to get a few extra hours of sleep, write letters, get caught up."

Tavington took a pull on his liquor flask, then continued. "Usually, I handle most of the paperwork, but the three of us divide it up when we get behind. Bordon, here, handles all of our prisoner interrogations. He is expert at drawing the information out. In fact, I'd like you to go with him the next time so you may see how….."

His voice trailed off as he looked to his side and noticed that Bordon and his fiancée were both gone. William looked around the compound then realized the music playing was Irish. He knew right then and there where they were.

"Uh, …we seem to have lost part of our party," Wilkins stated.

"Oh, Bloody Hell! Those two can't walk past a bloody Irish fiddle without wanting to take a jig!" Tavington swore, his irritation at the two showing. He stopped and eyeballed the lively Irish group to the side.

"Sir?" Wilkins was confused.

Colonel Tavington pointed over to the group, demonstrating where they were.

"Oh," acknowledged the Captain.

"I swear," began William, "Bordon would leave a battle if Karen called him to come bleeding dance with her!"

William shook his head and rolled his eyes. "This always happens! Good thing we don't have Irish musicians around all the time or the Dragoons would never get a damn thing done!"

"Oh, a rival for her affections," Wilkins teased with a smirk.

"Hell no," Tavington swore, "They're both half Irish!"

The Colonel crossed his arms in disdain. "Important things to discuss and he'd rather dance!" Tavington quickly dismissed it as it couldn't be helped then turned back to Wilkins.

"So Captain Wilkins," he continued as he put his foot up on a bench, resting his crossed arms on his knee, "who do you think is our Ghost and how should we seek him? Opinion, please."

Wilkins thought for a second, then began. "Well, I have my suspicions. There is a fierce fighter that fought against the French and Indians a few years back. He fought at Fort Wilderness and was rough. He is a rogue, anyway. His name is Billings, but he's not much of a leader. Benjamin Martin is another one. He fought at Fort Wilderness, as well. He emerged as a leader there and is good at uniting people. Saw him awhile back in Charles Towne. But, he didn't want this war. Since he has a large family now and with his wife dead, he has become a pacifist."

Wilkins scratched his head and contemplated the situation, then spoke again. "Rollins. Well, no. He couldn't be. He is riff raff. I think the militia doesn't even want him. He's hard to control."

Tavington leaned forward and listened intently as Wilkins continued. "It could also be a regular Colonial army soldier disguised as militia, working covertly, but Burwell and Green would never admit to it. They want to appear as gentlemanly as the English!"

"Alright, well, let's come back to the identity of the Ghost later," Tavington said impatiently. "In your Loyalist view and opinion, how should we go about besting these rebels—within the….. 'gentlemanly'….. rules of war, as Cornwallis puts it!"

"Well, continue burning their homes and confiscating property. Cut off everything to them and destroy their livelihood. If they and their families are homeless and defenseless, this may draw them back home and away from the militia."

In the Irish group, Major Bordon and Miss Stirhaley danced and stepped lively together to the jig "Paddy O'Carroll." The two of them laughing and singing with the music as they danced. The smile on her face was lovely. Tavington could see across the compound that she was having a good time. He continued on with his war strategy banter and let his fiancée step to the music.

"Also, up the ante for info from spies," Captain Wilkins carried on, "and keep them within the ranks of the Colonials and militia. Infiltrate both, as well, with a subversive to cause discord and mutiny within the ranks. This will weaken the lines."

James Wilkins concluded his requested speech of opinion. "And, lastly and as usual, cut off supply lines to the rebels and make examples of those who aid them. All this keeps morale low, and the rebellion should splinter and fade."

All of this Tavington already knew as military book tactics. He just wanted to ask Wilkins to feel him out, and hoped that he may have a new inkling that Will himself hadn't thought of.

General Charles O'Hara entered the Fort at that time and heard the Irish music. Being half Irish, he naturally filtered over to it. The group kept on dancing and singing as he walked up to join them.

He looked very nice, still dressed in his formal occasion uniform. O'Hara had just left the gathering at Middleton Place for the evening to come back to his office and finish a small bit of paperwork before retiring to bed.

Once within the group, he immediately noticed the lively Miss Stirhaley. He bid Bordon if he could cut in and dance with Karen, and Bordon excused himself from her without discord. He kissed her hand and thanked her for the dance. She surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him affectionately on the cheek, thanking him for the dance and the company. O'Hara had let down his professionalism and was drinking from a bottle of his own Irish whiskey. He quickly thrust the bottle into Bordon's hands to hold as he jigged with Miss Stirhaley.

Bordon took his leave and headed back to Tavington and Wilkins.

Tavington couldn't resist making a comment. "Well, are you through imitating a leprechaun?"

Bordon laughed. "Yes!"

"Well, if you're looking for your pot of Gold, it's not here!"

"Right! Because I used it to bribe the rebels to give up the Ghost!" the major retorted comically. He took a swig of O'Hara's whiskey. Bordon and Tavington both were slightly tipsy.

Well, Good work, Major," Tavington bantered back. "But your gold was ill spent for they haven't given him up yet!"

Bordon offered the bottle of whiskey to Wilkins and Tavington. "Drink up, boys! Good Irish whiskey, compliments of Brigadier General Charles O'Hara!"

Wilkins turned to Colonel Tavington and commented wryly. "Maybe you'd like to spit in it, Sir."

"Actually, I'd like to piss in it," growled William, taking the bottle from Bordon.

"Not before I get a drink of it," said Wilkins, quickly grabbing the bottle from Tavington's hands.

"Play nice, children," Bordon chided in a sing song manner, "or I shall have to give our new toy back to its rightful owner!"

"Play nice?" William quipped. "Why, I was the schoolyard bully!"

"And that has followed you into adulthood, as well," Bordon smarted back to him.

"Well, one must use a firm hand in dealing with the rebels."

Wilkins, Tavington, and Bordon each took a couple of swigs from O'Hara's whiskey as they watched him dance with Miss Stirhaley.

Tavington added to his last comment. "There's nothing wrong with burning and pillaging—so long as you're on the right side!" This elicited laughter from the three men.

A familiar Irish tune was playing now, and Tavington and Bordon absentmindedly started to sing the catchy refrain put to the tune of 'Doran's Ass':

_"Whack fal de ral la tu rah lawnee, Whack fal de ral la tu rah lee. _

_Whack fal de ral la tu rah lawnee, Whack fal de ral la tu rah lee!" _

Tavingon, usually having disdain for Irish music and dance, sauntered over to the musical group with his other two men and joined in the singing of this rollicking tune, which he did happen to like. He even joined in to dance the last part of a jig with Miss Stirhaley. He had managed to pick up a few Irish jig moves from frequent parties with the Stirhaley family and their Irish relations.

Finally, as an end note to the night, at the request of Bordon, the musicians slowed the tempo down to a gentle Irish waltz, "My Lodging Is On the Cold Ground." William then waltzed with Karen, the last bit of music before the musicians packed it in for the evening.


	12. Chapter 12 Outcasts

CHAPTER 12 Outcasts 

After the ball then subsequently picking up the mail at Fort Carolina, Colonel Tavington and Miss Stirhaley rode home to McKinnon House in their coach. William noticed that Karen had become quiet. As they sat close to each other on the seat, his arm was about her protectively with her head resting on his shoulder.

Tavington was finishing off the evening with a few swigs of brandy out of his silver flask complete with a 'WT 'engraved in script on the side. It had relaxed him into a pleasant tipsy. He broke the silence. "Did you hear any idle gossip tonight that we should discuss now," he joked.

She knew he disliked talk of that kind. "No, I talked mostly to Major Bordon and Captain Wilkins."

"But you see them every day," he retorted. "Didn't you mingle with anyone interesting, say, some diplomat that could further my standing?"

Karen sighed audibly in exasperation. "You're incorrigible and shameless!"

He laughed and kissed her temple. She continued. "I didn't mingle about much tonight."

"So I noticed."

"Are you upset," asked Karen.

"No, but it helps—"

"William, we are outcasts," she interrupted in a distressed tone, finally blurting out what was on her mind and changing the subject. Karen came out from under his arm and sat forward on the coach's seat. She looked at the empty seat across from them.

"What?"

"They want nothing to do with us," she continued, turning to look at him. "I've told you what those women said about us." Karen Stirhaley became silent again.

William took the opportunity to signal to the driver to bypass the estate and ride around the countryside until further notice. Then he directed his attention back to his distressed fiancée. "Well, we won't be outcasts when I'm a hero, that's for sure."

"William, you're already a hero and decorated many times over," she pointed out.

"Obviously I'm not hero enough to be taken seriously by Cornwallis," snapped Tavington sarcastically. He took another pull from his flask. "The outcome of the many battles and the war will decide who the heroes are, and I intend to be one of them. It should be enough that I've never lost a battle, and all the victories should bring the glory."

Karen could only sigh and shake her head. She sank back into William, nestling herself under his arm. "I don't even know if that will change things," she lamented. "I have this feeling that we'll never really fit in."

He tilted his head down and forward to look at her in the eyes. "Oh, I think we will," he replied confidently. Then he kissed her. She opened her mouth to accept his tongue and could taste the sweetness of the brandy on it. The couple kissed deeply for another moment until William stopped it, knowing the relaxation of the alcohol would get the best of him.

The two of them were silent for a moment. Karen wanted to fall asleep with her head on William's strong shoulder, as she had done many a late night before, traveling home from various events. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to broach a subject with Miss Stirhaley. She was relaxed enough to fall asleep.

"Karen", began William, "How would you like to stay here in the Colonies after we get married and England is victorious?"

"And not return to England?"

"No. I thought we might make our life here," Colonel Tavington replied cautiously, looking for a clue to her feelings about this. He continued. "I've ridden from one end of the colonies to the other. The winters are harsh up North, but mild down here. I like Virginia and the Carolinas the best. The climate is much warmer and more agreeable here than in England. It appears easier to grow things here, and a wider variety of what one can grow. And, it is beautiful here."

She had known for awhile that Tavington had fallen in love with the colonies. Karen was pensive and said nothing for a moment. William continued to stay still, letting her have time to think about this.

She wasn't receptive to the idea, but tried to hide that from him. Karen Stirhaley was an English girl through and through. She truly loved her family's home, a manor house in the countryside of Sussex. And, there were her many close friends in England and her large family, whom which she was very close with.

William had nothing holding him to England but his military ties. His Father had ruined the Tavington family reputation with his drinking and had squandered his inheritance as well. In fact, when the elder Tavington passed away, William was estranged from him. He barely managed to keep relations with his mother, brother and sister.

Tavington was strong and brave, unafraid to try anything new, like staying in a new country. Karen longed to be more like him in this way. She always admired him for his ability to move forward with no fear.

"After England has won this conflict, there will be a need for English military over here," the Colonel stated. "And, because of the expanse of the country, there will be a need for cavalry, so I'm sure that the Dragoons will be posted here."

Karen sighed heavily and looked away from him. She gazed longingly out the window at the passing countryside, as if searching for something that no longer belonged to her. "Oh, William, I don't know," she said hesitantly. "My family, my friends, they're all back home. I'd miss them terribly, as I do now. And, I love England."

He waited for her to continue, thinking she had more of her mind to speak. Instead, she questioned him.

"Why do you want to stay, Will? Certainly all of the Dragoons won't stay over here. I'm sure some of them will have to go back."

"No, not necessarily," he countered. Her actions spoke volumes to him that she wasn't in favor of staying here permanently.

"Karen," began the Colonel in an attempt to assuage her fears, "I think we will have a chance at a better life if we stay here. In England, there's nothing for me except the military."

"Which you love," she pointed out.

"Yes, you're right," agreed her fiancé. "But, it is military wages."

"But you do alright," she interjected.

"Well, yes because I'm a higher ranked officer, but……..I am not terribly wealthy, and I won't get that large of an inheritance, thanks to my father."

She knew that the difference in social classes and money was a sore subject with him. He never forgave his father for losing an exorbitant amount of the money set aside for inheritance, the family means and business, and for dishonoring them. William was a very proud man and wanted to do things to further himself and become independent. He wished to build his own fortune and regain a good reputation. He worried that Karen's family would never totally accept him because the Tavington family wasn't as wealthy as the Stirhaley's. He always thought it a stroke of luck that a Stirhaley family friend, and close one at that, had been a Green Dragoon, or else he thought he would have never had a chance with her!

Karen respected William greatly for his ambition to re-establish a good reputation for the Tavington family, and she loved him even more for this. But, she understood the great pressure and high standard he set upon himself, and, as his future wife, she yearned to help him bear his burden.

"William, I have money and with my inheritance—"

"You know that I don't want us to live on that," he interrupted.

"We don't have to, then," she assured him in a loving tone. "We can make it on your—"

"An officer's salary," he sniffed.

"Yes, William. It will be fine," she assured him. "You know that I have never cared about money and don't judge others by it. It has never made a difference to me that your inheritance is meager or that you have a military salary. I love you, NOT your money. And as long as I have you, I don't care if we ever have a cent!"

Her words warmed his heart. He knew she was sincere. Her genuineness was her best quality.

"No," he said anyway. "I want more for my wife and family than that. I want you and our children to have the best and I want you to be taken care of if something should happen to me. That's why, if we stay, we can buy land and I'll farm it or have a plantation and maybe stay on with the Dragoons as well."

He continued in his quest to win her to a life in the colonies. "You can make regular visits to England to see your family and they can come here as well."

That was nice, she thought, and it would ease some of her longings for family and friends. But, it still boiled down to the fact of who the two of them were.

"William, we have no friends here," she stated.

"We'll make some," he said cheerfully with hope.

"I don't know how eager the colonists will be to make friends with English military commanders who fought against and defeated them," remarked Karen.

"Good point," Tavington admitted. "Well, then, we'll make friends with the loyalists and the other English who stay behind."

"Will, did you not hear me? Need I say it again? We are outcasts among them and they want nothing to do with us."

She sighed and he said nothing. She added, "We'll be very lonely." Her voice and words were haunting and forlorn.

Colonel Tavington was silent for an instant, thinking how to allay her misgivings.

"Well, when we are married, we'll just move to the country alone and create our own paradise. But, I fear nothing will ever get done because I'd spend every moment making love to you," said William, his rich voice fading to a gentle tone.

"Good Lord," she exclaimed, "we'll have 20 children!"

"Oh, No. I know a way around that," he affirmed.

"William," snapped Karen, "we're Catholic!" She sat up again and registered her surprise at him.

"So, I'll tell the Priest that we are practicing abstinence and offering it up to God." He smiled at his clever answer.

She rolled her eyes. "You can't lie at confession."

"Well, I'll lie to the Priest, but I'll confess to God that I was completely under your spell and could not help myself," he said whimsically. "I'll tell our Lord that I was bewitched by a beautiful sorceress, and I'll ask him to forgive me, but never to redeem me from your flesh."

William pulled her close to him and kissed her deeply. Then his lips moved to her neck, kissing it softly, which brought forth a blissful sigh from her. After a moment he laid his head on her shoulder, lips still touching her neck.

"I can see I'd best hurry up and marry you soon, William Tavington!"

"Yes. Soon", he agreed, raising his head to nod. He took another drink of his brandy and sank backward into his seat. Karen's head was on his shoulder and her eyes were already closed. Tavington downed the remainder of his alcohol and relaxed for the rest of the ride, the sound of the horse's hooves and carriage wheels along with the soft breathing of his fiancée as she slept calmed him.


	13. Chapter 13 A Startling Revelation

CHAPTER 13 A Startling Revelation 

Karen Stirhaley had been at Fort Carolina most of the morning, acting in her unofficial capacity as secretary and supply officer to Tavington's unit of the Green Dragoons. She'd been there ordering supplies, completing as much paperwork for William as she could(barring anything he needed to sign or fill out himself) and dropping off the Dragoons' mail home. She always volunteered to fill this position since there was nothing much to do around McKinnon House, not being married or having a family to look after. She was often bored and thought this was just a small way for her to help the brave soldiers of her country-especially since the Dragoons were always short of personnel. Unbeknownst to her, the unit had become short of men with Colonel Tavington's undue risk of his men's lives in his relentless pursuit of the 'Ghost'.

After she'd completed her tasks, she'd had a few moments to visit with General Lord Cornwallis, who was fond of her, despite her pick of a fiancé. After that, it was on to General O'Hara's office to go over some paperwork with him from Tavington, and to take some back to the Colonel from O'Hara. She and O'Hara were enjoying a light chat over the papers when they both noticed commotion amongst the soldiers at the fortress wall. General O'Hara excused himself from Miss Stirhaley. A servant came around to refill the teacups as she waited.

Miss Stirhaley took her renewed hot tea to the window with her, watching the gate to the fort open. She saw a man that she thought was a civilian ride through the gate on horseback carrying a white flag. She thought it was unusual, but not that extraordinary given the situation of war. Walking back to the desk, she thought of how noble her country's military was, recognizing the white flag of the enemy with mercy and not to shun it as would barbaric civilizations.

In another moment, Karen heard footsteps in the hallway outside O'Hara's office. The General peeked his head in. "I'm sorry, Miss Stirhaley," he apologized, "I won't be another moment. I must show this messenger into Lord Cornwallis' office, and then I'll return and we can finish."

True to his promise, he returned to her after a few more minutes, and the two finished out their paperwork. She bid him goodbye and left as he disappeared back into Cornwallis' office.

Once outside, she adjusted some objects on her saddle while a soldier was securing her heavy saddlebags to it. As she finished readying to leave, she saw General O'Hara coming down the steps from the offices and suddenly remembered she'd neglected to give him a message from Major Bordon. Karen left her horse and approached to talk to the General, but noticed he was accompanied by the white flag messenger. She stopped and stood nearby to wait and talk to O'Hara when the stranger left.

At that moment, the doors to the compound swung open and she immediately recognized Dragoon uniforms. Karen was delighted to see that it was her William on horseback along with Major Bordon. She waved but he didn't see her as he was looking intently at O'Hara and the messenger. The young woman decided to give him a minute to dismount then she'd walk over and greet him.

Tavington rode his horse over to the side and jumped down immediately, never seeming to take his eyes off of O'Hara and the visitor. He stalked purposefully through the ranks of Redcoats and thrust his helmet into the arms of one unsuspecting private.

"William!" she called happily as she took a few steps closer to where General O'Hara stood. Tavington did not hear her. The Colonel hadn't even noticed Karen when she approached, stomping right past her.

"Release the prisoners!" General O'Hara shouted the command.

Karen was overwhelmed by the action around her. Simultaneously William not seeing her,O'Hara barking orders, then the gate of the prisoner's compound clanging open. Finally, she estimated twenty men or so now leaving through the gate. They seemed to be with the messenger, a man in his mid forties with a brown ponytail and colonial dress. There were even more men, rebels most likely, on horseback now assembled just outside the gate.

She followed William, knowing he was preoccupied with something. Miss Stirhaley started to call out to him again, but kept quiet and stopped short in her tracks as she noticed he walked straight to O'Hara. She'd let him finish addressing the General, then she'd welcome him back.

"General, what is this?" Tavington demanded.

"Prisoner exchange," O'Hara explained. "He has eighteen of our officers."

Although Karen had stayed back to afford the officers room to talk with each other, she was still close enough to hear everything they said.

"Who is he? I recognize him," asked Colonel Tavington. Karen knew that William was given to being intense, but she had never seen him this vehement.

"He is the commander of the militia: your 'Ghost'," O'Hara replied. Karen's head snapped in the direction of the messenger who had rode in earlier. _Surely this man, who had been so calm and quiet with O'Hara in the hallway, was not the brutal ghost who had killed twenty soldiers by himself at one time, she thought. _

Colonel Tavington drew his sword immediately with lightning precision, turned and went after Benjamin Martin, ready to strike. Karen became alarmed when she saw this, not wishing to see William fight. Her body tensed and she froze in her spot. Words seemed to freeze in her throat rendering her unable to protest his action.

"Stay that sword, Colonel," O'Hara snapped, stopping Tavington dead in his tracks. "He rode in under a white flag for formal parley."

"This is madness!" Tavington remarked, irritated that he had to sheath his weapon.

"If you harm him you condemn our officers," said O'Hara.

"General, with respect, Sir, he has killed as many officers in the last two months," Tavington pointed out through clenched teeth.

"He has shown no aggression here hence he can not be touched," warned the General.

"Has he not?" Tavington remarked, raising an eyebrow and nodding his head_. He thought to himself, "I'll show you! I'll show you all!"_ His anger was now crashing uncontrollably within him for he hated rebels—especially this rebel. He turned and stalked after Martin, who was now outside the gate.

"You!", cried Tavington, "So you're the Ghost, are you?"

William was going to say whatever he could to incite an altercation from Martin. He may make the initial advance verbally, but he would see to it that Benjamin Martin would make the first physical move. Then, he'd have the opportunity to kill the 'Ghost' right then and there in front of his countrymen, reaping the glory and notoriety from it later.

Tavington continued to aggravate the situation. "I remember you on that farm. That stupid little boy!" Martin, the white flag messenger, turned and came back through the gate when this was said. He came up close to face the Colonel.

Karen couldn't believe her ears! _Was this really her William speaking so horribly?_ This was a startling revelation to her. He had only ever been a gentleman in her presence. _Why was he acting like this, she wondered_.

"Did he die? Hmmm?" William asked teasingly, in a menacing tone. "You know, it's an ugly business doing one's duty, but just occasionally,……. it's a real pleasure." With those terrible words, Tavington smiled sinisterly, still doing his best to provoke a fight. He wanted badly for Martin to make that initial move of aggression so that he could have the honor and glory of cutting the Ghost down right there in front of everyone! He wanted it so badly that he could taste it!

A stunned and shocked Karen was breathing hard now. Her surprise at William's behavior had turned to anger and disgust. She wanted to lunge forward and grab his arm, but couldn't move. She wanted to cry out for him to stop this, but the words stuck in her throat. Also, the fact that this was military business prevented her further from doing or saying anything. Her mind weaved uncontrollably for an instant, trying to recall when she had ever seen him act like this in the past.

Karen had no idea that an ugly secret was being revealed to her. This was the side of Colonel William Tavington that was seen most often by everyone else but her.

"Before the war is over, I'm going to kill you," she heard the Ghost say coldly and calmly to William. This remark and how it was delivered scared the wits out of Karen.

Tavington didn't even blink an eye. Instead, he offered the hilt of his sword to Martin and challenged brashly, "Why wait?"

"Soon," Martin replied icily staring the Colonel down. He kept his cool, as did his men outside the gate, knowing they were outnumbered by Redcoats. Martin then turned to leave. As he did, he let out a whistle and Cornwallis' Great Danes, Jupiter and Mars, bounded down the steps and out through the gates back into the possession of the rebels.

Colonel Tavington stood there, speechless and seething. He was livid that he was unable to get any kind of aggressive response from the Ghost.

Karen, too, was upset. She was absolutely furious at William. The young woman could not believe his manner: acting that way in front of enlisted men and officers. She felt the hot fingers of shame on her, embarrassed by his actions. The young lady was mad, as well, that he didn't have more self control than that, given that he was an officer. But mostly, in her mind, he'd lied to her. She remembered how he denied to her that he killed women and children –that he wasn't this 'Butcher' that he had been nicknamed.

She wanted no more of this ugliness. Karen regained her physical sense and spun on her heel to leave. At that same moment, William suddenly noticed she was there, but had no idea how much she'd seen or heard.

"Karen," he cried. He walked after her but she kept on walking.

"General, my horse, please," she asked O'Hara in a restrained manner. The officer could see that she was visibly upset and trying hard to keep her own feelings under control.

Her horse was instantly brought over and General O'Hara helped her mount it. She hiked her skirts up slightly and straddled the horse, foregoing the ladylike sidesaddle riding. Karen had no care, at this point, of what that looked like. She wanted to get away from Fort Carolina as fast as possible!

Simultaneously, as soon as she was on the horse, William had nearly reached her.

And she was already taking off. "Hiyah!" she cried as she dug her heels into the horse's ribs. The animal sped off without a moment's hesitation through the gate, which had just been re-opened.

"Karen! Wait!" shouted William again.

"Go with her, quickly!" O'Hara commanded. Two redcoats were on their steeds within an instant, tearing off after her. The General was afraid that if Martin's men were still outside the compound, that she would be jumped.

Tavington walked at a good clip toward his own beast when O'Hara screamed angrily after him.

"Colonel Tavington! Inside please!"

"Sir, I need to go aft—"

"I need to see you inside NOW!" the general barked viciously.

Tavington complied and followed thecommander into the building.

Once inside General O'Hara's office, he confronted Colonel Tavington in his usual restrained and professional manner, laced with anger and frustration.

"Colonel Tavington, what in the Hell was that?"

"Sir, we had a known rebel and murderer of our officers within our confines that we just released. And let his band of riff raff walk out the gate behind him, as well," answered the Colonel, barely able to control his own anger at the whole crazy situation.

"Displays like this, Colonel, will not be tolerated. The rules of War dictate—"

"They don't play by the rules of war. Begging your pardon,sir " interrupted Tavington, "so why should we?"

"Because we are gentleman and above that," affirmed O'Hara, walking out from behind his desk.

"Sir, we can't expect to beat them fighting as gentleman. We must play the same game they do to defeat them."

"Must we?"

"Yes!" Tavington's eyes were glowing with determination and assuredness. William continued. "Sir, how can you expect me to control anger during a confrontation?"

"These things must be handled with discretion, such as we're doing now," O'Hara stated. He continued. "Officers do not give their emotions away to the enemy. It conveys weakness and allows them a means in which to attack. Stiff upper lip, Colonel."

Tavington sighed heavily and said nothing. He clasped his hands together behind his back and his gaze followed his senior officer as he walked toward the fireplace.

Once at the hearth, O'Hara turned back to the Colonel to impart more wisdom. "Now, Martin knows your shortcomings of anger and vanity."

Colonel Tavington rolled his eyes and held his tongue, clearly irritated by the General's candor.

General O'Hara continued. "You just gave the Ghost more ammunition and reason to attack you and he knows just where and how to do it. You added fuel to a fire that is already burning out of control."

Tavington countered. "Sir, I am neither ashamed nor afraid to show aggressiveness, which you wrongly interpret as anger, toward a foe."

"Challenges have a proper arena in which to be offered," said O'Hara.

"This Fort and today_ was_ the proper place and time," William shot back, fuming noticeably.

"Was it now?" asked General O'Hara, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Sir, it was," Tavington stressed.

"In front of the officers, the rebels, your Ghost, and……...", General O'Hara paused and shot him a wry smile, then continued, "your fiancée as well." He paused then continued. "Yes. She looked and acted rather shocked. Perhaps Miss Stirhaley has not seen the side of you that _we_ see all too often."

"Leave her out of this! She has nothing to do with—"

"She didn't seem pleased judging by the way she tore out of here."

"Miss Stirhaley is a fine and honorable woman who will someday be my wife. She does not judge character by small incidents. She is above that."

"Is she so?" smirked O'Hara. "Well, nonetheless,……… discretion, Colonel."

"Sir, does victory mean nothing at all?" asked William, still trying to salvage his part of the conversation.

"It means much," answered O'Hara, "but will be more symbolic if won in a fair way."

"Is there nothing I or the Dragoons can do that will please the officers," he smirked, barely veiling his sarcasm.

"You know damned well what to do," snapped the General. He stopped short, then quickly regained his composure. "Tavington, you never seem to understand and I tire of this." He walked back to his desk as William bit his tongue to keep from saying anything else to get him deeper into trouble.

"This ungentlemanly conduct must stop now! You are jeopardizing the reputation of the Dragoons and our army is being judged by the actions of its officers. You must exercise control of your outbursts!"

"Sir, with all due respect—"

"We will not stand for anymore acts of insubordination." O'Hara cut him off right away. "Do you understand, Colonel?"

"Yes, General," he replied with an icy stare.

"Must I reiterate the importance of fighting as a gentleman?"

"No, you needn't," replied Tavington. "You and Lord Cornwallis have done that quite enough already."

O'Hara caught the snide remark, but did not dignify it with one of his own.

"Very well, then, Colonel. You are dismissed."

Colonel Tavington, once outside, snagged his helmet from an enlisted soldier. He then rejoined Major Bordon for the ride home.


	14. Chapter 14 What Happened To You?

CHAPTER 14 What Happened to You? 

Karen Stirhaley rode her horse at a dead run from the moment she left Fort Carolina. The two Redcoats hastily assigned to guard her never caught up. When she arrived at McKinnon House estate, the horse was near collapse.

The young woman jumped off and stomped purposefully into the house and up the stairs, talking to no one. She passed the servant girl, Laura on the stairway.

"Miss Pratt, I need you to help me immediately, please."

The servant turned on the stair and followed Miss Stirhaley to her apartment.

Laura was from a Loyalist family that lived near the estate. The family struggled to keep their plantation and farm afloat, barely breaking even every year. As a result, Laura worked at McKinnon House as a servant to the McKinnon's to bring in money to help her family.

"Quickly, I need to pack," Karen instructed. "I'm leaving."

Laura complied and began to gather Miss Stirhaley's suitcases. Karen, still upset from William's tirade said nothing as she gathered her belongings. The servant could tell that Miss Stirhaley was disturbed by something, but she said nothing to her as she continued to help load things.

A short while later, Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon arrived on their horses home from the fort. The Colonel was completely foul now. He'd witnessed the man he'd tried his damndest to capture and his rebels released to freedom, he'd been unsuccessful in provoking any aggression from the Ghost, his fiancée had fled from him without a word, and he'd just been reprimanded—again.

The dragoon commander stalked into the house and up the stairway straight to Karen's room, already mad at her for leaving him behind at the headquarters without a word. His blood boiled the instant he reached her doorway and saw her packing.

"What are you doing," he snapped.

She said nothing back to him. The tone of his voice scared Laura enough to stop her packing and look at him. Karen was about to drop some more clothes into her trunk when Tavington immediately slammed the lid closed before her.

"Where do you think you're going," he demanded, his voice and temper rising.

"Home to England," she answered defiantly.

She stepped back from him but he grabbed her wrist. "No, I don't think so," he said with authority.

She tore away from his grip and backed away from him, still mad herself, yet unable to disobey him or speak up to him for the moment. His blue eyes were now frosted and narrowed with anger. She found it hard to release herself from his accusing glare as she held his gaze, continuing to back away from him. Soon, she found her back against a wall, as he stepped toward her. The maid watched, frozen in her spot.

Karen tried to step to the side, out and around Colonel Tavington, but he gripped both of her shoulders tight and pinned her back against the wall. Still staring deeply into his fiancée's eyes, he barked meanly at Laura. "Leave us!"

Stunned, the maid stood there, unable to move, looking at Karen who was pinioned to the wall still by Tavington. Her eyes asked silently of Miss Stirhaley what she should do.

William turned his head menacingly toward the maid.

"Now!" he growled.

Laura dropped the clothes in her arms and hurried from the room terrified. She ran down the stairway and out of the house.

There was a tense silence in the room as the lovers stared daggers at each other.

"William, stop!" she cried as she managed to wriggle out of his grip. She stepped away from him as he made his way to the door. He shut the door and stood before it, barring her from leaving. He loved Karen, but he was not going to let her get away with this, so he had to exert authority.

After standing at the door for a moment as if to prove to her that he was in charge of the situation, he stepped back toward her as if to intimidate. She stood still, partly standing her ground, and partly because she couldn't leave the room. Karen, who was so even tempered, was mad enough to slap his face. She didn't though, fearing what he might do after experiencing this roughness. She should have been recoiling from his gesture, but her own anger at him quelled her shock.

After another moment, the rage inside her exploded, obliterating temporarily any fear of him. "You lied to me," she shouted.

"About what?" he countered.

"Fighting honorably," she shot back.

"We _do_ fight honorably!"

"No you don't! I heard you today! I heard everything you said!"

"What?"

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

As the confrontation continued between Karen and William upstairs, Laura ran out of the house and bounded into the middle of a group of Dragoons who were talking casually. She crashed into Major Bordon, nearly bowling him over. He caught her and managed to keep both of them standing upright. When he let go of her, she took hold of both of his wrists, pulling on them to lead him away. He moved with her a couple of steps, then stopped, wondering what she was doing.

"Major Bordon, _please_, you've got to come, quickly," she begged, once again trying to lead him away from the group. He held her back.

"What's the matter," he asked.

"The Colonel and Miss Stirhaley are having a terrible row!"

The group of Dragoons, most of them bachelors, heard this and snickered, amused at the thought of their fearless leader in a lover's spat.

The Major tried to ease the maid's fear. "It's probably just a quarrel," said Bordon. "I'm sure everything will be alright."

"No. No!" implored Laura. "Colonel Tavington is very angry!"

These words brought a huge laugh from the group. They saw this from their senior officer every day. When wasn't he cross, especially lately?

Laura looked around at the laughing officers with confusion. Yes, she had seen their commander's firm and cold personality around the men, but she had never seen him angry at or utter a single harsh word to his fiancée. To the servant's dismay, the soldiers continued to jeer and laugh about their leader's 'usual disposition.'

"Well, that's not unusual for the Colonel," Bordon assured the servant, smiling as he continued. "Everything's fine. He wouldn't hurt her."

"But he was so rough with her." The girl was insistent.

"Rough," asked the Major.

"Yes Sir," Miss Pratt replied. "He grabbed her hard and put her to the wall."

The group became quiet. Bordon thought for an instant that this wasn't ordinary for Tavington. Of all the people, he was always very good to Miss Stirhaley, nearly worshipping the ground she trod. He glanced at the other Dragoons and sighed.

"I'd better have a look." Major Bordon left and followed the maid into the house.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

While Laura was outside with the Dragoons, the fighting between Tavington and his fiancée had continued. The shouting could be heard as the Major and house servant made their way into the house and up the stairway.

"You deliberately tried to provoke a fight with that man!" Karen shouted accusingly.

"Yes because we have been chasing that rebel for months and they were letting him walk. As long as he's around, our officers are at risk. He's a murderer."

"And so are you," she cried.

"I am not a murderer," Tavington protested, eyes narrowed.

Karen had known about the fiasco at Martin's farm which had started this whole 'Ghost' chase, but Will had failed to impart all the details to her. And now, after the scene at the fort, it all came together and she knew now what had gone on there after all.

"Yes you are! I heard you! You killed a boy at that man's farm! You lied to me! You _do_ kill women and children!"

"I had to shoot that boy," William shot back. "He attacked our soldiers in an attempt to free a condemned rebel. Any boy with that much fire in his belly will grow up to be a formidable foe."

"Oh, WILLIAM!" She gasped, turning from him and sighing. She put her hand on her forehead, feeling a dull ache coming on. Karen looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for some place to put her exasperation for him. Then she hung her head down and shook it. "What if some colonial regular officer murdered English or Loyalist women and children? Hmmm?" She turned back to face him for his answer. "Certainly the English would want revenge, just as the colonists want it now?"

William said nothing as he drew his lips together tightly.

"What if I was one of the women he murdered?"

"He'd be a dead colonial because I'd kill him," the Colonel answered without hesitation. "Yes-I'd kill him to avenge your death."

"Oh, Will, THINK!" she emphasized. "Think about what is being said and done and the ramifications of it!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, then conceded. "Look, yes, I do have to kill rebel women and children sometimes, especially if a threat is posed. The things we must do for duty aren't always pleasant. But I don't feel like I have to justify the actions of the Dragoons to you."

"No, Colonel, you don't!" Miss Stirhaley responded bravely in a voice that conveyed an icy disappointment. "You don't have to justify or explain anything to me—or even tell me the truth!" She continued on obstinately. "You don't have to explain anything at all. I can always hear it 'second-hand', or worse, see it for myself!" Karen was shaking now with emotion.

William raised his voice as he snapped back at her. "I am sorry you saw the unpleasant part of my duty today—"

"Are you? Are you really?" she roared back. "How do you think I would have felt to see you fight him? To watch you get injured or killed? You have no care of my feelings!" His fiancee turned quickly from him as her eyes began to sting with tears. She clamped them shut, trying to stop the emotion and hide it from him.

"You know that's not true!" exclaimed Colonel Tavington.

"True!" she screamed and shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know what's true anymore!"

With that, there was a knock at her chamber door. It was Major Bordon, with the maid. He had been outside the door the last minute or so, but heard no roughness, only raised voices between the lovers. He had decided to knock and check on them anyway.

"Miss Stirhaley? Colonel?", he began, calling through the locked door, "Is everything alright?"

"Go away, Bordon", Tavington growled. "This is not your concern."

"William!" Karen exclaimed with clenched jaw. She shot a mean look at him. The girl bravely reached behind her fiancé and opened the door. Tavington did not fight her and moved aside. Both were within view as Major Bordon and Miss Pratt looked on from outside in the hallway.

"Yes," she replied to the Major politely. "We're just having a discussion."

Bordon was suspicious. "Begging your pardon, but it sounded awfully loud for a discussion."

Tavington gave him an angry look. _How dare anyone interfere with something this private, William thought._

"You're dismissed, Major," William said angrily through clenched teeth.

Karen gave her fiancé an annoyed look. She would not let his foulness get in the way of social politeness.

"Things are quite alright, Major. I assure you," she said with calmness and a pretty smile.

"Very well, then. Sorry to have disturbed you," he apologized.

Miss Stirhaley closed the door and shot a hard look at William, angry with the way he was acting toward her and his aide-de-camp.

"I'll have her thrown out of the house," Colonel Tavington muttered ominously under his breath, agitated that the servant had run to Bordon about this.

"No you won't!" Karen shouted. "What was she supposed to do with you coming in here angry and roughing me up? Poor girl was scared to death!"

"Honestly," she continued to herself, "You can't control yourself in front of your soldiers, how can I expect you to do it here?"

"Karen!" he snapped and walked ominously toward her.

"What happened to you, William," she asked in a weak, yet concerned voice. This stopped his approach to her immediately. He froze in place and thought about her words and the concern in her voice.

"You were always a gentleman," she stated with dismay as if he was no longer gentlemanly.

"I have treated you no less," he replied coldly.

"True," she conceded. "But you haven't treated the Colonials in that manner."

"The Colonials don't play war fairly," he began, a shade calmer, "so they won't be dealt with in a fair manner on our end. I do what I must to assure victory and am commanded to do so by my superiors. The Dragoons do not question my tactics, why should my woman?" William arched an eyebrow up as he looked down at his fiancée, his demeanor urging and commanding an answer from her.

Karen was shocked and hurt by this comment. After a moment's hesitation, she walked right up to him, showing no fear. "Well," she began, "I won't be here to question you anymore because I'm leaving." With this, she turned away and began to start packing again. He took hold of her trailing hand firmly and pulled her back to him.

"I assure you that I don't execute indiscriminately," Will began. "It is with good reason or just cause that I do." It was well known to Tavington's men and the superiors that he thought of family members of rebels as one in the same, and that they should suffer the same punishment as a rebel did. Though, he never mentioned this to Karen.

The colonel tried to put his arms around Karen, but she deflected them and stepped away. He attempted to explain further. "Listen to me closely, Karen," he begged. "If a colonist woman is sleeping with one of our soldiers, and is gleaning information from him during the throes of passion, doesn't that make her a spy? Suppose she passes what she learns to the Colonist army? We would have no choice but to…stop her by any means. And what of the rebel child that melts down his toys to make ammunition for rebel guns? Ammunition that may kill myself or one of my men? Shouldn't he then be dealt with as a rebel, for that is what he is."

Miss Stirhaley was quiet for a moment, mulling over what he said. Though she didn't want to admit it, it did make sense. "Yes….Oh,Will…I don't know," she stammered, "I just…I just don't feel safe here anymore. So, I think it's best if I go home."

"That's ridiculous! You are best protected here," he said. "No! It's out of the question. You aren't going home. I won't permit it!"

"You can't order me around like you do your men," she objected, raising her voice. "I'm not even your wife!"

"No-but you will be," he shot back. "And when you are, you can't just…go!"

Tavington turned away from her and sighed. He was trying to get his temper back under control.

William loved her, but still did not want her to defy him.

"Leave?" Tavington continued. "Absolutely not!"

"But, William, you're not listening to me," she shouted, her voice beginning to break. "You're not even listening to yourself!"

"What?" His voice was full of irritation.

"The things you've said! A few moments ago you vowed to kill any Colonial that would murder me. William, they will want revenge on you and will take it any way they can."

"I've told you, we will deal with them," he asserted, his temper near the edge again.

"You'll deal with them during the war," Karen retorted. "What about afterwards? What about when it's over and we're settled here? There will still be those who will remember your acts. And what if they hunt us down? What am I to do out on a farm by myself if you're away? How do I protect myself?"

She continued, quivering now, trying to stave off tears. "Or what if we have a family? Then what? How are we to survive if something happens to you?"

"Have you so little faith in my ability to protect our family," William asked.

Karen suddenly felt guilty, knowing that her fiancé was a good protector.  
"No William," she answered timidly, shaking her head.

"You're the one who call me a warrior," he reminded her. "Karen, I know what is best for us and our future children, and it is here."

"I suppose so," she agreed hesitantly.

"I assure you it is," Tavington asserted.

"Yes, William," she said in a small voice, complying with him. Her mind suddenly remembered that one of her wedding vows will be to 'obey', and she knew that William, as man of the family, would have final say on everything. Karen wanted to be a good, loving, and supportive wife—not a defiant one.

Karen still couldn't stop thinking though about rebel retribution. She turned away from him to hide more tears forming. Karen wiped her eyes and looked back at him. "William…What if they come after our children?"

She clamped her eyes shut, and held them closed for an instant. Images of future Tavington children with the same ice blue eyes as their father's went through her mind. In one image, she saw a little girl kidnapped by an assailant horseback, with her screaming after the child. Another saw her and William weeping over the lifeless shapes of a son and daughter, with a grieved William repeating "It should have been me."

Karen walked to the window and crossed her arms, feeling suddenly ice cold. She shuddered. Then she opened her eyes and looked out over life and activity as usual at McKinnon House, wanting to surrender her terrible ponderings to familiarity and routine.

William stood silently for a moment, feeling terrible about being so angry with her. He knew he needed to be reassuring her, not scaring her with his temper.

He walked over to her and joined her at the window. The officer touched her shoulder lightly so as not to frighten her, but she recoiled. He closed his eyes and sighed. _"Good Lord, you've done it now William. She doesn't want anything to do with you." _

William stood next to her for a moment at the window. He stayed silent. She said and did nothing. He stepped over behind her for a moment. He saw that her hands were clasped behind her back as she stared out the window still. Will took hold of one of her hands gently and apologized.

"Karen, I understand, now, why you're afraid," he began, pouring a sincere heart into his words. "I shouldn't have stormed in here yelling at you. You are an angel to suffer through my bad days, my battle weariness, and so on. The Dragoons must be Saints to live with a commander like me."

"Oh, William," she turned back to him and walked into his arms.

After holding her close for a moment, he took hold of both her hands and led her to the bed. He sat her down on the edge of it, while he knelt in front of her. "Karen, you are safe here. I will protect you. They will have to get around me to get to you, and I am not about to let them. Nothing will happen to me. Look at how many battles and skirmishes I've been in, and only wounded seriously a couple of times."

"You nearly didn't recover from the last one," she reminded him, referring to when he was ambushed by thieves. "I thought I'd lost you." She looked down at the floor with tears welling in her eyes again.

"But I always manage to get out alright," he remarked. "Darling, I want you to stay. No one person can run from fear forever. If you go home, then the rebels have won another battle. They will have driven you away from me. And why should we let them separate us."

William was sincere, yet, his own need for control of everything was telling him that he could protect her, when, in reality, she may have been better to go home to England temporarily. Plus, his own selfish desire to have her near was winning out over logic telling him she'd be safer in Europe.

"If you stay here, we can face them together and show them that we aren't afraid. Once we've stood our ground, they won't dare harm us. I love you, Karen, and I want you to stay. You are what keeps me going. You take care of me. What will I do without you?" He smiled slightly and his eyes sparkled as he looked into hers.

"William…I….." she began, but, he leaned forward and silenced her words with a gentle and slow kiss. It left her breathless.

As she regained her senses, William was already at the door calling down the stairs for Laura. She sat still on the bed, wondering what was going on. Once again, Colonel William Tavington's charm and sincerity had melted her and disarmed her defenses. An instant before when he'd kissed her, she had started to tell him that she wanted to go home, if only to visit for a few weeks, until he had caught the Ghost, then she would come back. But, she didn't even get the chance to say it.

The maid strode cautiously into the room, still apprehensive about the Colonel. She was amazed to see him smiling and seemingly in a better mood. "Miss Pratt, please help Miss Stirhaley unpack her things. I'm pleased to tell that she's decided to stay with us!"

With that, the maid went immediately to work unloading things. William walked over to his senseless fiancée sitting on the bed. Tavington brushed a light kiss on her forehead then stepped out of her room. She hadn't decided to stay, William had decided this for her. She sat frozen on the edge of the bed a few more moments, absolutely confounded by what just went on.


	15. Chapter 15 A Deal

CHAPTER 15 A Deal 

In the early evening of the same day that William and Karen had had their fight, Tavington had been summoned back to the Fort to meet with General Cornwallis. When William returned there, he found that he was to have a private meeting with him. As he entered his chambers, the General was finishing up his supper.

The Lord General quickly went over the details of what had transpired shortly before and after Tavington had arrived at the Fort earlier in the day. He told him the whole story of how Martin had ridden in under white flag, and returned his two dogs. He also said that they had been duped into a prisoner exchange. Martin had told him that they held eighteen redcoat officers hostage and would return them for the release of his rebels. Cornwallis was then shown the officers through a long glass, tied up to poles on a ridge that could be seen from the Fort. The general, satisfied that he wasn't lying and seen his men weren't harmed, okayed the release. It was only afterwards when they went to retrieve their officers and after Tavington had left the Fort to chase down his fiancée, that O'Hara brought one of those officers in to see the Colonel.

"Sir, one of our captured officers, My Lord," were the words O'Hara spoke as recounted by Cornwallis to Tavington. Then, O'Hara thumped the officer on the floor: It was a scarecrow. The supplies captured earlier by the rebels had contained many Redcoat uniforms. These were used to dress up the scarecrows, and, the ridge was close enough to see the uniforms through a long glass from the Fort, yet far enough not to see detail of the 'officers' faces. Cornwallis was aggravated and embarrassed by the incident. He wanted to lay blame on someone. It was easy for him to point the finger at Colonel Tavington, but it was even easier for him to goad him into stepping up his efforts to find the ghost. He knew his Dragoon Colonel was just as hungry to find the ghost.

"My reputation suffers because of your incompetence," shouted Cornwallis angrily. "That man insults me!"

William kept his composure. Raising his left eyebrow and speaking with subtle sarcasm, he said, "Quite impressive for a farmer with a pitchfork, wouldn't you say?" His dead pan answer echoed the exact words the General had used to describe the militia on the night of the ball.

Cornwallis took off his napkin and pushed his dinner plate away. He then motioned for Tavington to step closer. William took a step forward and stood regally in front of his General with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I want you to find that man," Cornwallis requested. "I want you to capture him."

"The man has the loyalty of the people," William stated. He turned and walked toward the map table, then turned back to face Cornwallis. "They protect him. Protect his family. Protect the families of his men." Tavington put his chin up and head back in a gesture of arrogant confidence.

He continued. "I can capture him but to do so requires the use of tactics that are somewhat….what was the word your Lordship used?…. 'Brutal' …,I think."

Cornwallis motioned for his waiter to leave them alone. William walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of brandy.

Tavington went on. "I'm prepared to do what is necessary. I alone will assume the full mantle of responsibility for my actions free of the chain of command, rendering you blameless." He paused for a moment to take a drink.

Cornwallis sat at his table and listened intently to what he knew was going to end up some kind of bargain for the good of Colonel Tavington. And, Tavington was enjoying the upper hand, for once.

William continued. "However, if I do this, you and I both know that I can never return to England with honor. What…I wonder….shall become of me?"

Tavington left this completely open to his commander. He hoped he would volley back with a good offer.

Cornwallis said nothing and got up from the table. He walked over to his map table and unrolled one of the maps. "When this war is over here in the Colonies, the new aristocracy will be landowners."

Tavington stepped in from the bar to look at the map. He had a devilish smile on his face. "Tell me about…..Ohio," he said.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

It was just after sunset when Tavington left his General. He and Major Bordon rode back to the estate in the twilight and mist. Tavington was now very full of himself, having just made the bargain of a lifetime. He was very intent upon snagging the Ghost now for he had an extra incentive: William had struck a deal with Cornwallis for a substantial portion of the land already awarded to the Lord General by the King in Ohio—if Will could capture the ghost and bring him to Cornwallis.

Once back at the estate, they entered one of the Dragoon tents looking for Captain Wilkins. Inside the tent, some of the dragoons were playing cards, while others were eating a late supper. Wilkins was snoozing on a cot.

The men stood hastily at attention as their commander entered the tent. "As you were," Tavington bid them and walked straight to where Wilkins lay sleeping. "Wilkins!"

Captain Wilkins was barely roused out of his sleep before Tavington had rambled. "The plantation seven miles from Wakefield on the Santee east of Black swamp. Who lived there?"

Wilkins thought for an instant, then answered groggily, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Benjamin Martin."

"He is the Ghost," Major Bordon interjected.

"What do you know about him," Tavington demanded of Wilkins.

"Hell, everything," replied Wilkins. "I could tell you the size of his boot."

Tavington rattled off more questions, impatient for the answers. "Does he have family? Where would he hide his children?"

Wilkins now understood that his commander was ruthless and would stop at nothing to catch Benjamin Martin. He was quite taken aback when asked about his family. "His wife's sister has a plantation…It's not far."

Tavington then ordered the Dragoons to horse and it wasn't long before the unit rode out to find Martin's sister-in-law, Charlotte Selton's plantation.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Later, under cover of darkness of the same night, the dragoons rode up the tree lined lane to Martin's sister-in-law's home. Once there, the group split up and searched the house and property for the family. Tavington himself went inside to check the house. Unbeknownst to the dragoons, the family had heard them coming and hid in the cellar.

Tavington walked about the dining room, feeling the wicks of the candles. They were still warm, so the house's occupants hadn't been gone long. He figured they weren't too far, or even hiding there somewhere. It had been a very quiet evening. In the dining room, Tavington could hear his spurs jingle intermingled with the voices from outside the house. He listened for other noises. He thought he heard something inside, but also thought a sound could have come from outside.

"There's no one in the house, sir," Wilkins called after searching the bedrooms upstairs.

"They can't be far," Tavington shouted. "Search the outbuildings and the woods, quickly!"

Tavington then cocked his own pistol as a silent Wilkins looked on from outside the room. William quietly squatted down and pulled up the tablecloth to check under the table. There was nothing. After he left the house, one of the young Martin sons squirmed out from a hiding place within the dining room and scurried down to the cellar. The family then quickly made a getaway, keeping hidden as they did.

From the porch of the house, Tavington barked orders to his men. Prepare to fire the house!"

A couple of the dragoons quickly threw flammable liquid on to the house.

Wilkins brought a slave to Tavington. "This one is head of the house slaves, sir."

"Where are they hiding," he demanded of the slave. When he got no answer, he shot the man without hesitation. Some of the dragoons then shot the other slaves.

"Keep looking," Tavington yelled. "They're here somewhere. Torch the house!"

Just as the dragoons set the house on fire, there was a commotion down the lane from the house. A man on horse was drawing attention to himself. They all quickly realized it was Benjamin Martin, the Ghost.

"To horse," cried Tavington. Soon the men were chasing Martin on horseback. As they did, Martin's family quickly escaped into the nearby woods with some of the rebels to aid them.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

The late afternoon sun warmed the linens that hung on the clothes line. Laura Pratt mindlessly folded each soft sheet, placing them in the basket. Her thoughts were full of worry for her lover, Miles Bordon. His unit was supposed to have returned very early this morning. They had yet to appear and there was no word from them.

After Laura finished pulling all the linens from them line, she carried the basket with her to a side entrance of the main house. The servant set the basket down at the entrance and wandered a few feet to the top of a gentle incline which afforded a good view of the plantation's entry lane. The girl scanned the road and horizon as far as she could see, hoping to see Tavington's brigade charging up the lane, alleviating her fears and bringing her beloved Miles back home to her.

From the porch, Karen Stirhaley sat alone reading a book. She looked up and over to the side noticing the servant Laura standing there looking at the world. Miss Stirhaley put down her book and smiled. She knew what—and who—the girl was looking for. Both Karen and Colonel Tavington both had figured out months ago by the obvious signs that they'd seen that the servant and the major had been carrying on secretly.

Tavington's fiancée left the porch and joined Miss Pratt on the hill. "They're overdue," Karen noted as she broke the silence.

"Yes," Laura agreed in a forlorn voice. She was still lost in thought over Miles, missing him badly.

Suddenly, something inside the servant reminded her that she was not to speak of her relationship with Bordon. She'd more than just admitted to it and was horrified when she realized who stood next to her. The girl opened her mouth to try to explain, but couldn't think fast enough to utter an explanation or a denial.

Karen could see that she startled the girl. She wanted to ease her fears. "It's alright," she soothed. "I figured out awhile back about you and Miles."

The servant let out a sigh half in defeat that someone knew her secret, and half in relief of the same. Laura forced a smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"No," assured Miss Stirhaley, "Just to me and William for we know Miles so well. We could tell by the way the two of you look at each other and act together."

Laura became alarmed. _Maybe others had seen it, as well, she wondered. _"Oh please don't tell anyone," she begged. "I fear Mrs. McKinnon will turn me out."

The pretty servant looked down at the grass, blushing furiously. "We do try to keep it discreet. Miles doesn't want me to be dismissed from the household, either. My family needs the money."

Karen became confused by Miss Pratt's last statement as it was contrary to a rumor she'd heard recently. Usually not one to perpetuate gossip, she decided against her better judgment to challenge Laura. "Word is that your family is starting to do quite well."

Laura knew she was caught. She hoped that only Miss Stirhaley had heard this. "Yes," conceded the servant, "our family farm is doing better now than ever it was. But, I have convinced father that we can use the extra money that I bring in. It keeps me here and close to Miles."

"Rest assured. Your secret is safe," Karen affirmed.

After a bit of silence, Miss Stirhaley spoke up again. "You know, you _could_ just give up the position and let Major Bordon court you outright."

"He hasn't asked me," Laura said with a sigh of disappointment.

"Well, that doesn't surprise me given that there is a war on," Karen remarked. "That is the life and way of a cavalryman. At war time, it is always duty first—women, family, and all else is second. Look how many years William and I have been engaged and are still trying to find the time to get married. I'm still waiting."

The two women became quiet for a few moments as both looked for familiar red and green jackets on the lane and listened for charging hoof beats. Although Karen had lived with the routine of the dragoons for years and knew that some situations didn't adhere well to schedule, it was still unsettling to her when William didn't appear somewhat as planned. She knew that Laura, for weeks now, had to have been experiencing the same emotion, which was new to the servant.

Miss Stirhaley spoke up. "I don't know how many times I've stood watching and waiting for Will to return when they are overdue."

"I worry for Miles," said Laura in a soft, lost voice.

Karen looked at the young girl and gave her a little smile of agreement and assurance. "It doesn't get any better the longer you are together," she remarked. "I still fear for William even though I have confidence in their skills as commanders."

There was quiet again save for the birds singing in the trees. A warm breeze blew softly around the two women.

"You should tell him that you love him before he leaves," Karen stated. "I always tell William—I just feel better that he knows and takes that with him. You never know if they might not return."

Laura's eyes widened at Karen's last foreboding statement, realizing that it could come true. Both hoped it never would.

Karen grasped Laura's hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I just pray that they come home."


	16. Chapter 16 A Threat

CHAPTER 16 A Threat 

ATTENTION DRAGOONS!

WE ARE GOING TO DO BACK TO YOU

EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE TO US!

REMEMBER BENJAMIN MARTIN'S FARM

AND 20 REDCOATS KILLED

WE SHOOT OFFICERS FIRST

TAVINGTON: YOUR FIANCÉE IS FIRST ON THE LIST!

The three officers stood outside the horse barn at McKinnon House, discussing the parchment that had been 'skewered' crudely to the door with a rusty dagger. It had been put there by a clever and sneaky rebel for all to see and be found especially by a dragoon. The rusty knife was some sort of symbolic gesture. It had been left overnight and found the next morning. Colonel Tavington, Major Bordon, and Colonel Tarleton stood silent for a moment, each thinking different things.

Bordon, recalling his commander's constant cruelty and intolerance of rebels, and how those actions had 'opened a can of worms'. He was worried, but tried not to show it. Bordon, too, cared primarily for Karen Stirhaley, since the militia mentioned her and knew her relationship to Tavington.

Ban Tarleton was thinking about ways to outdo the rebels at their own game. He didn't worry so much about the officers or himself, knowing full well the possible outcome of battle, but he worried about the innocent bystanders. He was concerned for the welfare of their hosts, their home and farm. And people like Karen and the other loved ones—what could happen to them?

William dismissed the whole thing as an idle threat and foolhardy waste of time. To him, some rebel had risked death on an estate full of His Majesty's soldiers just to deliver a warning. Tavington and his men already assumed there would be retaliation and were prepared for it. And, if the note was purely 'symbolic', the symbolism was lost the instant Tavington deduced the display as a squandering of time.

Tavington was the least of all worried. He knew that the only way a rebel would ever touch Karen was over his dead body. And, he would not be bested by any rebel! He was going to live to see the end of this conflict and England victorious! William was determined to achieve glory for the Dragoons and honor for the Tavington name.

"Should I arrange to have Miss Stirhaley moved?" asked Bordon, still staring at the note.

"No," Tavington answered firmly. "They will follow me right to her if I try to sneak a visit!"

"Guards around her? Sequester her?" Tarleton asked, thinking that they needed to do something to assure her safety.

"Guards only when she goes out," Tavington replied. "But, she should be safe here as long as the soldiers continue to camp. Besides, I refuse to answer the threat of these peasants! I will not charge their egos any further by showing them any fear!"

"You've got a point, Tav," Ban agreed. "They should fear us. They've got more to lose than we have."

With that, Tarleton took the paper and dagger down from the door and handed them to William. Banastre and Tavington took off toward the house, unaware that they'd left Bordon behind.

Major Bordon just stood there, thinking quietly. He had ominous feelings about the note, surmising how calculated it was. It had been written, planned, and placed carefully, by someone bold enough to enter Redcoat land, risking capture or death. Someone, or some group, daring enough to pull a stunt like that would be audacious enough to try anything. Immediately, Miles felt the need to tell all to 'look back over their shoulders,' but knew that his proud commander would never bow to that.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Tavington sat at the desk in his room looking over a map of the area. He did some quick calculations and noted them. The sound of a woman' s shoes approaching his door wrecked his concentration. He looked up to see Karen standing just outside the door, holding a piece of paper in her hand.

"William," she said curtly, "Am I in danger?" She held up a piece of paper in her hand, as if punctuating the point of her question.

A moment ago, Karen had run out of ink and had gone to the desk in the alcove to get another bottle. While retrieving the ink, she found the warning note, which Ban had left laying atop the desk.

William took the note from her hand, read it again and smiled queerly at her. He then grabbed her hand and pulled her into his room. He kicked he door shut with a loud slam.

Mr. And Mrs. McKinnon and a local friend of theirs were in the hallway admiring a new painting they had just bought. A servant was cleaning the fine rug out there as well. All four had seen Tavington pull his fiancée into his bedroom. They all thought it scandalous and not proper for the betrothed couple to be alone in his room behind a closed door.

"Well?" she asked him.

"It's an idle threat, Karen."

"Idle?," she exclaimed. "I asked Colonel Tarleton about it and he told me where you found it. How_ 'idle'_ of a threat can it be if someone risked life and limb to put it where you'd find it?"

"Karen, calm down, we have the situation under control and you are absolutely safe!" William laid the note on the sideboard by the door and took Karen's hand. He led her close to his bed.

"The only danger you are in," he began impishly, "is when you're around me!"

With that, he threw her onto his bed on her back, where he collapsed next to her.

He wanted to distract her from the note because he knew she'd worry over it. He could mitigate the warning by taking her mind off of it and acting as though it meant nothing to him.

William looked into her eyes as he ran a fingertip teasingly from her lips down the front of her body. "You're always in grave danger of being deflowered by your favorite Colonel!"

He began to kiss her playfully and tickle her, alternating with groping her. She grabbed his wandering hands to stop him.

"William, stop! I was serious!"

"So am I…about stealing your virtue!" He continued to fondle her mischievously.

"William!," she protested. She tried to keep her voice down lest the occupants outside in the hallway hear her.

"But what happened to," he continued then feigned her voice, "… 'I may be a virgin, but I am only human and have urges'…..?"

She tried to stop him as he tickled her.

"What about….. 'marry me or take me to bed, William'…?" He mocked.

"I wanted you to continue, but your friend interrupted us!"

"Ah….I see…..blame it on Bordon. He's not even here to defend himself."

She groaned in frustration as she struggled against William's strength. He chuckled aloud at her frustration, amused that he had flustered her.

William continued. "Well, what about now?"

"Now? But people saw me come in here!" She managed to work herself out of his playful grip and got up off the bed.

William reached out and pulled her back down onto it. "What does that matter? We're engaged." He knew damn well it wasn't proper.

"But William, people will talk!"

"They talk now, anyway!"

"Remember yourself, Colonel," she said, calling him by rank, which he disliked for her to say to him, "you're on duty!" Karen knew that if the word 'duty' didn't get his attention, that she was really in trouble!

"Perhaps there is a rival for my affections," he teased her. "You don't want me now. So maybe your heart belongs to another officer?"

"OOOHHHHHH!" she screamed in an exasperated voice. She grabbed his pillow and hit him with it. Karen then promptly jumped down from his bed and stormed from the room.

William rolled onto his back on the bed and laughed to himself. He'd done it! He deflated the rebels' threat and alleviated her fears.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

A few days later, Colonel Tavington stood in a tobacco field in the warm Carolina sun of a lonely farm admiring the flowers of that plant. Wilkins was there as well. A few minutes earlier, he had left orders with Bordon and the other dragoons to carry out interrogation of two rebels they had caught as the cavalry raided this plantation. William needed a break, so he and Wilkins had retreated into the field for a few brief moments.

Tavington seemed particularly happy and carefree that day. He felt that they were very close to catching Benjamin Martin. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders now that Lord Cornwallis had given him free reign to use whatever means necessary to catch his 'Ghost'. Tavington no longer had to 'play by the gentleman's rules.'

"Beautiful country," Tavington said lyrically as if in another world. "Everything grows here." Indeed, he was excited over the thought of making America his home with a large reward of land. He thought of growing this plant. William thought he might actually be happy being a farmer when all this fighting was done.

A man's scream of horror pierced the air across the field. This seemed to destroy William's reverie. He sighed and rolled his eyes at being brought back to reality, hating to give up his respite in the field. Duty called, so he turned and walked toward the cabin, with Wilkins behind him. Tavington knew he had to get back to the house to see what was going on.

Once inside, the battered and bloodied body of one of the rebels lay spread out across the table. Major Bordon stood near the end of the table by the man's head. Bordon stared Tavington down.

"Well?" Tavington asked his silent partner.

"I'm sorry, Sir. He died!" Bordon answered in a very disgusted tone. At that, he shot a look of contempt at Tavington and the two brutes he had assigned to work the man over if he didn't cooperate. When the man refused to answer Bordon's questions, the brutes had become overzealous in their beating, despite Bordon's protests, and ended up killing him.

The Major was sick to death of the increasingly brutal way in which prisoners were treated at the hand of the dragoons by orders from Tavington. Bordon had noticed that Tavington's own bad temper and brutality was rubbing off on his men and setting a bad precedent. He couldn't help but think that if Tavington would have left him alone to do his job and just ordered the men to restrain the prisoner during interrogations, the man might be alive now to give more answers.

Bordon, from time to time, got as sick of dealing with rebels as Tavington did. But, in his mind, disposing of them by brutal means served no purpose except to incite retaliation and hatred against the English. Miles's humanitarian conscience would never let him subject the rebels to the fate Tavington dished out. He wished that the men of this unit would strive for higher standards instead of emulating their commander's bad behavior, which had become more frequent. The loyalty that Bordon felt for his country gave him the strength to carry on and stomach Tav's fiendishness. It also gave him the composure not to argue with his friend and commander over such things.

Still, the look and tone of voice from Bordon was enough to remind Tavington that Miles was disgusted by these ways. Tavington cared not and waved off the feelings.

The Colonel walked over to the table and tilted it up, rolling the corpse off the table and on to the floor. He did this as a show of power to the dragoons and the other rebel. He was angered, as well, that the man hadn't given more information when he was alive. "Bring me the other one!" His command was loud and firm.

Two of the dragoons dragged the other rebel, a man named Rollins, into the room and handed a bag to Major Bordon. He opened the bag and dumped its contents on the table. They planted the Colonial right in front of Tavington.

More aggravation spilled over Bordon as he saw that his commander meant to interrogate this man himself. He hated it when Tav tried to do this because, invariably, William would be quick to lose his temper if he didn't get answers instantly—or the right ones. If Tavington was in a generous mood, he'd only beat the shit out of the prisoner, or have his dragoons do it. But, most likely, he'd just kill the prisoner, reasoning that there would be one less rebel in the Colonies to contend with. Major Bordon wished that Colonel Tavington would let Miles do his job, as the interrogator for the unit, and that William would just stick to leading and commanding.

"This one is a rebel…and…..a thief," Bordon said calculatingly, holding up one of the coins from the bag.

Rollins spoke up in defiance. "I'm not a thief! I'm a patriot!"

Tavington raised his eyebrows at the man. He was brave to speak up to the commander of the dragoons, known and feared by the Colonials. "Ah….I wonder how patriotic you'd be if I offered you the chance to walk out of here alive….and to triple all this?…..And all you have to do is tell me where I can find Benjamin Martin and his rebels."

Bordon eased a little. William was offering the prisoner a bribe. _Ah! Smart move, he_ _thought_. This meant his commander was in a generous mood. Hopefully, there would be no more killing today.

The rebel pondered the offer, looking at both Tavington and Bordon. Both Dragoon officers smiled, thinking the money had spoken loudly and they would soon get the answers they sought.

But, without warning, the rebel Rollins spat directly into Colonel Tavington's face. Two dragoons pushed the rebel roughly down on to the table and held him there.

Tavington, who did not flinch during the assault, simply wiped his face dry and stared down menacingly at the man.

Struggling against his captors, Rollins said, "Do your worst."

Tavington sneered at him and replied, "I always do!"


	17. Chapter 17 Warning Shots

CHAPTER 17 Warning Shots 

Karen raised her head up off her pillow, thinking she'd heard glass break. Then she sat up in bed, still shaking off the sleep as she looked around the dark room.

A moment later, she heard gunshots and her window exploded and shattered onto her floor. She shuddered as the air was cut sharply by her ear. Then shots rang out again, and it was only then that she realized someone was shooting at her.

Karen jumped from her bed and slid underneath it, the height of it affording her room to squeeze in. At the moment, she wasn't sure if the house had been taken, if kidnappers were getting ready to storm it, or what. She panicked and said a quick prayer for protection. The young woman reached a hand out from under the bed trying to grab the blanket off of it to cover herself from view but she couldn't reach it.

"William! Help me!"

Colonel Tavington was already out of bed. He jumped into his riding breeches, leaving his nightshirt hanging out. The officer could hear his fiancée's cries for help as he bounded up the stairs.

The colonel passed Captain Wilkins, who was running down the stairs. "I'm going after them!" exclaimed Wilkins, loading his revolver while on the run.

Meanwhile, the house and grounds were awakening to the noise and were in an uproar. There was general panic all around. The occupants of the house were shouting as they were under siege.

"William! Major Bordon! Where are you!" A very frightened Karen still lay on her stomach, cramped and hiding under the bed. She'd heard men shouting and wondered why no one was heeding her calls for help. _Maybe the men have been taken, or maybe they were killed. Oh, God! What do I do, she thought._ Miss Stirhaley fought back tears, trying to decide what to do next. She tried to be brave.

Bordon was in his room still, shooting out the window in the direction of the gunfire. He was kneeling on the floor, peeking over the windowsill for cover, alternately shooting from his musket and pistol. He could also hear Karen's pleas for help. "Get down!" he yelled at the residents of the manor, hoping they'd hear and heed.

It was a very dark, cloudy night, with no moon. Bordon saw the silhouettes of three men, non-uniformed, on horseback, but that was really all he could identify. He hoped that they were it—that the grounds hadn't been taken by some unseen army hiding in the underbrush.

"William!" Miss Stirhaley screamed again frantically.

"I'm here," replied the Colonel as he entered her room. "Stay down!"

She complied, hiding her face in one arm, the other covering the back of her head.

"Can you see them?" Tavington called to anyone listening.

"No uniforms!" Bordon cried back.

William reloaded his pistol, using the wall to the side of her window as a shield against the gunmen. He'd peer around the corner of the window, trying to see what he could in the dark and aim center of the target. He could see there were three horseman, but thought he saw two of them riding away in the dark. The sound of running hooves confirmed this. "Where is everyone?" The Colonel shouted. "Get out there!" He became irritated, already under stress trying to protect his fiancée from the gunfire and that no one seemed to be following orders in the midst of the chaos.

"Hey, Tavington, you bastard!" rang out a male, American southern accented voice. "Next time, we won't miss!" The last rider and threat- maker rode off quickly to catch up to the other two rogues.

"God Damned rebels!" William muttered. "Yeah! I see you!"

"After them!" Will ordered out the window. The men in the tents had just awakened and were coming out to see the commotion. Some of them heard Tavington's order and took to horse or foot, shooting and shouting.

Major Bordon bolted from his room and down the stairs. "Leave him alive—we need to know where Martin is," he commanded, once outside the house. He ran back into the house and up the stairs, still concerned about the welfare of Miss Stirhaley.

"Everyone alright?" he asked of all the occupants, shouting as he ascended the stairs. The general buzz of "yes" was heard echoing throughout.

Bordon reached Karen's room and saw William sitting on the floor huddled in a corner. His back was to it with his knees drawn up to his chest, holding his fiancée and consoling her.

"Miss Stirhaley? Colonel? Both alright?"

"Yes," Tavington affirmed to him. "We're fine. She's just a bit shaken up."

"The men went after them," Bordon confirmed.

"Good. Would you please hand me the quilt from her bed? She's cold."

The Major pulled the quilt off the bed and walked over to the couple. He knelt down and helped his commander drape the blanket around her. She was still shivering, from cold and fear.

"I want to go home, William," her voice quivered as she weakly spoke.

"It's over now," he said in a gentle and comforting tone. "It's alright."

"I'm frightened," she cried. She buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair softly his fingers blending into her tussled curls.

"I'm here now," he replied trying to calm her. "You're safe."

"I'd feel safer at home in England!" She had a death grip on Colonel Tavington's nightshirt.

"No. You're safe here," he assured. "I'll protect you."

"But you can't protect me all the time." Her voice started to break again.

"Karen, don't let these rebels scare you."

"But William. Tonight almost—"

"Shhhhh," he quieted her as he stroked her cheek.

Bordon was amazed at the calmness in his commander's voice. That was a tone he hadn't heard for years from Tavington.

The Major approached and knelt down in front of them. He could see how scared Miss Stirhaley was, noting especially the white knuckles of her fist clasping a handful of Tavington's shirt.

"Sir," Bordon began, "we are gone a lot anymore. Maybe it would be a good idea to move her to the Fort. It would offer a bit more protection."

"True," the Colonel agreed. "But if the Fort falls or is captured…"

His voice trailed off, neither man wanting to admit the bad things that may happen to her if that happened.

Tavington continued. "If we start moving to keep safe, then I fear it will become a pattern. We'll be moving her all the time just to stay one step ahead of the rebels. But, it is us they are really after. Wherever the Dragoons are is affected. This estate is threatened. I'll ask Cornwallis for more men for reinforcements tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir," Bordon answered. He wondered in the quiet for a moment. He agreed with Karen that the best place for her to be safe from this conflict was at home in England.

Outside the house, Redcoats and Dragoons alike were chasing the three horsemen. The two that had gotten away first had veered off the lane and through a field. They jumped the wooden fence to safety. The third man had not fared as well. His horse never did catch up to the break-neck speed of the first two riders.

The Redcoats chased him on horseback and by foot. He was shot at several times. One of the bullets caught him in the arm. It knocked him from his horse as he was unable to hold on longer to the reigns. The fallen rebel tried to pick himself up and run, but was soon surrounded by English soldiers. They dragged him back to a barn and tied him up.

Captain Wilkins went inside the main house and upstairs to find his commanders. Wilkins entered Miss Stirhaley's bedchambers to see Bordon squatting on the floor in front of Tavington, who was still cuddling a much frightened Karen.

The Colonel looked up at Captain Wilkins. "Well, did you get them?"

"Uh, Sir," he stammered, "two of them escaped."

"Oh, Bloody Hell," Tavington exclaimed, irritated.

"But we got one," Wilkes added.

"Well, Good!" Tavington said.

Wilkins noticed the Colonel's lady sniffling into his chest, gripping him tightly. He was concerned. "Was Miss Stirhaley hurt?" He bent his tall frame downward to have a closer look at her.

"No. Just scared her a bit," Tavington answered. "She'll be fine."

Captain Wilkins straightened up. "Ready to interrogate at your will, Sir."

"Very well," acknowledged the Colonel. "Bordon."

"Yes Sir." Bordon was to his feet in an instant, ready to take on his usual job of interrogation. He was the best and most patient at drawing out the answers needed.

Tavington started to get up to go. He put his hands on Karen's wrists gently to release them. She let go of his shirt but instead wrapped her arms about his neck tightly. His fiancee wanted to hold him there with her. She wasn't sure if the three were going to abandon her or make her go and face the rebel. All Karen wanted was to feel safe.

Colonel Tavington stopped short as he changed his mind. "No. I'll interrogate the prisoner."

"Sir?" Bordon was a little surprised. After all, Tavington did deal with the questioning once in awhile, but he was never as patient with the prisoners and usually treated them harshly before obtaining any answers. He suspected that his commander had something in mind for this rebel.

Tavington did indeed have an ulterior motive. He wanted to frighten and menace this man they way he just had them. In William's mind, he knew Bordon was better at interrogations, and that he would be firm with the prisoner, but not hard enough for the Colonel's liking. Also, he trusted Bordon more than he did Wilkins to stay with his beloved Karen.

William started to get up once again. Karen held tight to him.

"William, please," she pleaded, "please don't go. I'm afraid." She looked into his eyes and for the moment, he felt bad leaving her.

"Karen, I'm sorry, but I need to talk with this man myself," he apologized. "I'll have Bordon stay with you."

She let go of him and sank back to the floor. William bent down and kissed her head. "You'll be alright here with Bordon," he whispered.

"Stay with her, please," asked Tavington.

"Yes, Sir," Bordon answered.

With that, Captain Wilkins and Colonel Tavington stalked with purpose out of the room. Karen watched her fiancé leave. She watched the door for a moment afterwards, half hoping he'd come back through it and send Bordon instead. Then, she curled up on the floor against the wall. Bordon covered her with her blanket and handed her a pillow off the bed.

"You're safe," reassured Bordon gently. "We'll be fine here."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

A few moments later, Tavington and Wilkins walked through the door of the barn, finding a few dragoons huddled around in a circle. The group of cavalrymen made a path in which Tavington strode to the center where the rebel prisoner was.

"Colonel William Tavington, Green Dragoons," he said, introducing himself to the rebel. The prisoner had been tied to a chair in one of the horse barns. Tavington had then ordered the barn to be closed up, which the Dragoons did.

"Yeah, I know who you are," retorted the rebel prisoner."Everyone knows you."

"So they do," Tavington said, smiling an evil smile.

"Yeah, your reputation precedes you!"

"My reputation for doing my duty?"

"No. Your reputation as a murderer!"

Tavington started to get irritated, but held his temper in check for the moment. "If I am a murderer, it is because you rebels have forced me to it! Unfortunately, it has become a part of my duty."

The Colonel walked away from the prisoner and his men and thought for a moment. He turned on his heel and came back. "If you will cooperate with us, I won't kill you. You'll get some prison time and be released at the end of the war."

"I'd rather die," the middle aged rebel shot back.

"Are you quite sure about that," asked Tavington. "I'm offering you the chance to live."

"For the price of betrayal," asked the prisoner. "I don't think so."

"Look, it's as simple as this: All you have to do, is tell us where to find Benjamin Martin and his men."

"I don't know any Benjamin Martin," the rebel answered in a smart ass tone.

"You…are a liar," William said. He walked away from the prisoner and began to load his pistol. "I am sick to death of playing your rebel bleeding game of who can outlast the next rebel. If you know my reputation, then surely you know that I am a man of little patience, which you are quickly using up. So, I suggest you begin to cooperate."

The rebel said nothing.

He looked at his men. "You know, one thing that I hate worse than an obstinate rebel…..is a rebel that tries to kill my lady."

"Tried," remarked the prisoner angrily. "We didn't aim to miss."

"And I don't intend to miss now," Tavington replied with a sadistic smile. He quickly fired his gun into the rebel's left foot. The prisoner let out a blood curdling scream.

Tavington took his bag of gunpowder from one of the dragoons and began to load his weapon yet again. "Now, would you like to cooperate, or do you want more?"

The rebel, shaking with pain, thrust his chin foreward bravely. "You can go ahead and kill me 'cause I ain't gonna tell you nothin'."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you just yet," Tavington began. "I need information on your leader, Martin."

"I'll never give it!"

"Are you quite sure about that?" Tavington slowly raised his gun and aimed at the rebel's knee cap. When the rebel was silent, William cocked his gun.

"Tell me where Martin is!" William's famous temper was beginning to show itself now, clenching his teeth as he talked.

The rebel did not answer.

Suddenly, Tavington raised his gun from the original aim of the prisoner's knee and shot straight into his groin.

The prisoner let out a howl of pain as his eyes welled up with tears. Even this sadistic move stunned the dragoons.

"TALK TO ME!" Tavington shouted, losing all discretion. "I need info, not a dead rebel!"

The prisoner began to gasp. "I'll never say!"

Colonel Tavington threw his empty pistol to one of the dragoons to load for him. "Your patriotism is honorable, but what good is it if you're dead!" The dragoon soon handed the newly loaded gun back to his commander. Will then cocked the gun and put it to the prisoner's temple.

"Last chance," warned the Colonel.

After a moment of intense waiting, the prisoner did not answer. Suddenly, again, Tavington quickly changed his aim and fired a shot into the rebel's neck. The prisoner slumped forward, gasping and unable to talk, trying to raise his head to look his killer in the eyes.

"Fucking rebel!" Tavington was very aggravated. At the moment, he wished the other two would have been caught and suffered his wrath as well.

Colonel Tavington turned to leave, holstering his pistol. He heard the other dragoons unholstering their weapons to finish off the prisoner, as they usually did. Tavington reeled around fast and barked "No! Let him die slowly." They all looked at him in confusion. "And THAT…..is an order!"

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Later that night, Colonel Tavington and Miss Stirhaley were camped out in Bordon's room for the protection factor, and also to avoid the chill night air coming through the broken window panes of her chambers. He was once again holding her close to him trying to comfort her. They were tucked in together on the couch as Bordon slept in his own bed

Karen rested her head on William's shoulder. He softly stroked her hair. "Close your eyes," he whispered. "Try to get some sleep."

"William," she began as she lifted her head to look at him, "I want to go back to England. I really don't feel safe here anymore."

"You are though, darling," he assured. "I'll never let anything happen to you."

"But William, I…don't….I don't feel…it's just—"

"Hush, Karen," he said to halt her protestation. Then he covered her mouth with his to quiet her. Despite the danger and worry of the evening, he was here with her now, alone in the dark. There was an intensity in the air between them. It was something about being close to each other in the darkness of the late night. There was a closeness of their hearts. Each had something to give to the other. William loved the feeling of her clinging to him, wanting to be protected. And he wanted to be her protector. For Karen, she loved his strength and trusted him implicitly that he'd never let anything hurt her. His unwavering bravery in every facet of his life she admired, yet it awoke a deep passion for him within her, as well.

His long kiss took her breath away as he kissed her deeply. She let his tongue slip between her lips and roam freely in her mouth. Then she probed his mouth as well with her tongue, which he accepted willingly. His lips moved to her ear lobe, then trailed warm and wet kisses along her neck. William's hands slid along her body and up to her chest, where he cupped and kneaded her breasts through the thin material of her nightgown. She caught her breath as he did, almost feeling as though his fingers were on her bare skin. William teased her nipples through the soft material with his fingers, rolling them softly.

"William, oh William," she murmured. "Now." She threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed his neck. Then she whispered in his ear. "I want you to have me now."

He pulled back from her for an instant to look at her face. "Are you sure?"

She didn't answer him, but instead, kissed him urgently and pushed his Dragoon jacket off his shoulders. He took her action as 'yes' to his question, and pushed her down onto her back underneath him on the couch. At this point, he no longer cared if she was still a virgin on their wedding night. He only wanted desperately to be inside of her now. As they continued kissing, both of them seemed to forget where they were. They did not remember Bordon sleeping soundly nearby.

William quickly pulled his nightshirt off over his head, then put his lips to hers again, kissing her hard. One of his hands had woven itself into her long hair, the other caressed her outer thigh through the delicate material of her gown. Karen's hands were traveling from his back, to his shoulders, chest and stomach, enjoying the feeling of fingers would linger lightly whenever they wisped over a battle scar, tracing the outline of the many wounds.

He kissed her down the front of her neck and chest to her breasts. William kissed and sucked at them through the silky material of her bodice, leaving it wet where his mouth had been. This sent her head spinning as she languished in the pleasure of his mouth upon them. She closed her eyes and let her head drop backwards, arching her back and forcing them deeper into his hungry mouth. She could feel his hot breath teasing at her nipples though the material.

Karen threaded her fingers into William's long hair, untethered for the night from its queue, and pulled his head back and up to face her. His lips covered hers as they tasted each other's mouths, each wanting the warmth and sensuousness of the other's tongue. As they kissed, she could feel his hardness restrained by his pants, pressing into her thigh.

After a moment, Tavington pulled back from her kiss. "I want you to touch me," he said softly. He heard his fiancée sigh lustily after he said this. William knew that she would be too shy to do this on her own. He undid his breeches enough to free his erection then took her hand and gently guided it to him. Tavington put her hand upon his hardness, which caused her to gasp, then let her touch it as she pleased.

Her fingers traced its outline and moved lightly along the length of it, only pausing now and again to linger. William groaned as her fingers discovered him. As she wrapped her hand around him, feeling the thickness of it, she marveled at how he felt; having never touched a man there before, and at how hard and stiff it was.

William could wait no longer. He longed to behold her naked body in the darkness, even if only a mere silhouette. His hands moved to her bodice and unlaced it. Then he moved up to her shoulders and slowly, gently, pushed the gown off of them and started to slide it down her arms. The material caught on her erect nipples, momentarily halting his stripping her garment.

There were noises outside. William stopped instantly what he was doing and sat up. He listened outside for a moment.

"What is it," she asked in a frightened whisper, not sitting up with him.

"Shhhh."

She wrapped her arms around his torso, but he gently pushed them back so he could get up. He crept to the window and looked out.

"Bordon!," he called in a muted voice. "Bordon!"

"Sir?" he answered drowsily as he sat up in bed.

"I heard something outside."

"I'll go down and check," Bordon said, reaching for his breeches that were strewn on the floor beside the bed. In a moment he slid into them and walked quietly out of the room, gun in hand.

The Colonel walked over to the couch and whispered instructions into Karen's ear. "Get down behind the couch." He handed her his loaded pistol. "If something happens to me, you use this!"

She nodded in compliance and crawled behind the sofa. Tavington moved carefully back to the edge of the wall by the window and peered outside, looking for whatever had caused the noise. He quietly picked up his musket and loaded it. He then knelt down and pushed the window open a wee bit. He cocked the gun and aimed the barrel out the window into the darkness.

Soon, he heard the voices of the soldiers outside and saw them skittering about with torches. Both he and Karen were relieved to hear the men outside the window as they searched. And, after a moment, Major Bordon returned to the room.

"Everything's alright," Bordon announced. "It was a bobcat getting into the rubbish heap."

Bordon retired back to his bed as Tavington helped Karen out from her hiding place. He sat down on one end of the couch and let her put her head on his lap, using his thigh as a pillow. He covered her with a blanket and stroked her hair.

"William—"

"Shhhh….," he interrupted her. "Go to sleep."

She closed her eyes, and in a few moments, fell to sleep. As she did, she murmured "William…..", as her voice trailed off into dreamland.

He looked down at her as she slept, glad that she felt safe enough to have drifted off. Tavington's thoughts roamed as he sat alone in the dark, unable to sleep.

The Colonel had an ugly vision cross his mind: He saw himself outside and pictured Karen walking toward him. Then, he heard a gunshot and saw her fall toward the ground. He ran to her and caught her body as it fell. He held her close in his arms as she died. This thought was breaking his heart.

The colonel clamped his eyes closed tightly in an attempt to push it out of his mind. He then vowed to himself silently never to let anything happen to her. He reaffirmed that he would lay his life down for hers. He continued to think.

Tavington's thoughts ran amuck. _"God, what would I do without her? I love her so much. I don't ever want to be without her. She is it for me and there will never be anyone else. What will I do if she should die first? Oh, God, don't ever let her die! I hope I go first so that I don't have to watch her die, or to have to live without her."_


	18. Chapter 18 Pembroke's Treason

CHAPTER 18 Pembroke's Treason 

Bordon was finishing wrapping his braid when he heard a knock on his door. "Yes," he answered.

"We move out in 5 minutes," Tavington yelled through the door.

"I'm on my way, Sir." Bordon took a last drink of tea then clipped his pocket watch to his vest.

A minute later, there was another knock on the door as Bordon gathered the last of his things. Irritated that Tavington bothered to knock a second time, he sighed in frustration. He composed himself and walked toward the door.

"I'm right behind you," he called through the door. "I haven't forgotten." Bordon opened the door to find his favorite house servant standing there.

"Forgotten what," Laura asked playfully. She looked up at him demurely. The maid entered the room as he motioned her to enter.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I thought it was Colonel Tavington again."

"I hadn't seen you yet today," she began, "so I thought I'd come to check on you."

Laura shut the door to Bordon's bedchamber and walked to him. Reaching up to the officer, she slid her arms about his neck and gave him a small kiss.

The major removed her arms from around his neck and gently pushed her back. "Darling, I'd love nothing more than to spend an hour with you today, but we ride out in a few moments." He gave her a sincerely apologetic look preferring rather to spend a lazy afternoon in his bed with her than attend to the duties at hand.

Laura countered with a look of disappointment. "May I at least kiss you good-bye?" Her voice was so sweet during this request.

"Of course," the Major obliged, unable to resist the charming girl.

Miss Pratt's arms encircled his neck again, as he willingly slipped his around her waist. Laura gave him a slow, sensual kiss, taking his breath away. Then the servant kissed him a second time, deeply and more insistent. As she did, she caressed his already aroused manhood through his breeches.

The maid kissed his jawline and ear, standing on tiptoes to reach them. The girl undid his pants quickly as she kissed him, then slipped her hand inside them down the front equally as fast. Laura found his manhood, closed her fist around his hardness and began to massage it up and down.

"Oh…God…Laura..," begged Miles breathlessly, "Please stop…..Darling I have to leave now."

Laura continued her sensual assault on her favorite officer. "And how many times have you teased me when I had to hurry back to work?" she whispered playfully.

Miles wanted to stay, but yet didn't want to suffer his commander's wrath for holding the brigade up from moving out on time. "Laura," he whispered as they kissed. "I wish I could stay—"

"I think you deserve to be punished now for all the times you teased me," she murmured in a sensuous voice.

"Now?" he asked, his head spinning. Bordon wanted her now, as well, but knew Tavington would be looking for him and would not be happy if he had to make a second trip to his aide-de-camp's door. "Darling, please."

Laura didn't listen to his pleadings. Instead, she knelt before him, pulling his breeches down on his hips just enough to expose his aroused manhood. She looked up at him as she massaged his hardness again with her hand. The girl gave him a look of complete innocence, which did nothing but incite more arousal within the officer. After one last look, Laura took his erection into her mouth and began to go down on the officer.

"Oh…God..please stop," he pleaded halfheartedly, not wanting her to cease. Bordon only did so because he knew he'd be late to assemble with the men.

Still, he let the girl continue on, longing for her to bring him to completion. After another moment of the exquisite torture, she stopped.

Bordon was left panting and aroused as he leaned back against the wall. Laura tugged his breeches back up and fastened them. She looked at him with a smile of triumph and satisfaction.

He sighed, knowing he probably deserved it after arousing her many times on purpose when he knew she couldn't comply. Bordon knew those actions would find her in his bed hours later. This was her simple revenge.

"I can play the game too," she remarked with a wicked smile. "Good day, Major."

Bordon stuffed his painfully hardened member back into his breeches, trying to arrange it within so that his arousal wasn't obvious. The black riding pants didn't allow for much modesty. He then reached out and caught the servant before she could leave.

Miles put her against the wall, cornering her there. The officer leaned in, giving her a slow, deep kiss. He pulled away to look at her and said, "You are a naughty little girl."

He backed away from her, picking up his things to leave. As he turned, he felt her grab the lapels of his jacket. She pulled him back to her, where they kissed a last time. He continued on from his last comment, whispering a playful threat. "And I'll deal with you when I return."

Laura watched her Major disappear into the hallway, leaving her standing alone in his room. She turned and looked at his bed with a smile, indeed already longing for his return, ready to be 'dealt with' by her favorite officer.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

"Move along to the church, Miss," Major Bordon requested. He rode his horse down the lane to the large tree that stood just outside the village of Pembroke. Colonel Tavington waited there on his beast. Tavington was looking over some notes he made in his field diary about this town and some of its residents. Bordon saw two young women milling about by a fence. He hurried away again from the tree on his horse toward the girls. As he rode over to them, he could see Captain Wilkins at the other end of the village hustling people toward the church.

As Bordon neared the two girls, he heard some of their banter.

"I wonder when the Howards will make it back?" one girl asked.

"You mean, Mr. And Mrs. Howard, with Mrs. Gabriel Martin," the other one corrected. Both girls broke out into girlish laughter. "The family did go there so that they could be married!"

"Oh, I always thought Gabriel Martin was so handsome!"

"Yes! And now Anne Howard will have him forever."

"No. You mean Anne Martin. We'll have to get used to calling her Mrs. Martin now!"

"Oh! I think I see them. There they are! Just getting back!"

"Anne! Oh Anne!" The two girls called to the Howard family riding up the lane in their buckboard, just entering town. The young ladies smiled and waved excitedly to Anne Howard Martin, newlywed wife of Gabriel Martin. The whole town knew that she and Gabriel had courted and the family had just gone away for the wedding of the two.

Bordon walked his horse up to the young ladies. "Alright now, ladies, move along, quickly to the church. It will only be a short meeting."

Miles rode back over to Tavington. "Would you like to hear something interesting?"

Tavington, still reading over his notes, did not look up. "Yes."

"Benjamin Martin's daughter-in-law just entered the town," he quipped.

This got Tavington's attention. He looked up at Bordon. "Daughter-in-law?"

"Yes, there, on that wagon, where Wilkins is."

Both men looked down at the family in the buckboard at the edge of the village.

"What do you mean 'daughter-in-law', Bordon?"

"Seems that the girl just married Gabriel Martin. He is Benjamin Martin's son. Remember? At the farm? He was the dispatch rider."

Tavington's eyebrows knitted and his jaw dropped. Then, a huge smile of satisfaction crossed his face at the information.

"Would you like me to have them seized?" Bordon asked. He thought this was a golden opportunity to glean some information.

But Tavington had other ideas. "No. Not right now, Bordon. Right now I need everyone in the church. They are of more use to me there."

Bordon complied, but made a note in his memory to make sure and seize the family immediately after Colonel Tavington met with the villagers.

Meanwhile, Captain Wilkins, who had been recognized by the villagers as a local loyalist, had surprised everyone by showing up in a uniform and as an officer in the English cavalry. And serving under Colonel Tavington, of all men. He stopped the Howard family's buckboard as they entered the town. They recognized him and greeted him, with some concern.

"Everyone's been requested to gather at the church. Colonel Tavington wishes to address the whole village," stated Captain Wilkins.

The Howard family complied. And, seeing that the meeting was about to start, didn't even stop at their house. They went on to the church and were the last ones in.

Soon after, Colonel Tavington rode his horse into the church and did not dismount. He did not intend to stay in there long. He removed his helmet and spoke to the villagers. "This town has given aid to Benjamin Martin and his rebels. I wish to know his whereabouts. So, anyone who comes forward may be forgiven their treason."

He was silent for a few seconds, giving them time to speak up and answer. When no one spoke up, he said, "Very Well. You had your chance." Tavington then turned his horse to leave. He was not about to waste any more of his time toying with these people.

"Wait," a man called from the back of the crowd. He worked his way forward and pointed to Anne Howard's father. "This man gives Martin and his men supplies!"

"Quiet!" exclaimed Mr. Howard.

"He brings them to Black Swamp," the first man continued.

"He is a liar," Anne Howard Martin spoke up, defending her father.

"In the Marsh by the old Spanish mission," the first man continued with his betrayal, undeterred by the denials of the Howard family.

"This man here?", Tavington questioned. "The Black Swamp you say? By the old spanish mission?" He raised his eyebrows at them. "Thank you very much." With that, he put on his helmet and rode out of the church.

"Shut the doors," he commanded.

The villagers were confused. The man who had spoken up walked to the door and questioned Tavington. "But you said we'd be forgiven."

"And indeed you may," Tavington yelled from outside the church. "That's between you and God!"

The Redcoats then sealed the church shut. All the doors were locked and the windows boarded up. The confused villagers didn't know what to think. Many of them thought their houses and shops were going to be burned to the ground while they were left in the church until help could get there. This was the way the English would keep them out of the way as their property was destroyed.

As Tavington rode back from the church, Wilkins was waiting for him.

"Ready to fire the town on your orders," stated Captain Wilkins.

"The town?" Tavington questioned. "Burn the church."

Wilkins, as well as Bordon and Captain Wentworth, were appalled and stunned at their commander's order. All of them thought they were just there to burn the village and keeping the townspeople in the church while doing so would keep them from resisting.

Wilkins protested the order. "There's no honor in this."

Tavington did not like his orders questioned. He spoke back to Wilkins with some irritation in his voice. "Didn't you say 'all those who stand against England deserve to die a traitor's death' "?

Wilkins was taken aback and could say nothing to deny his own words.

"Burn the church, Captain," Tavington ordered sternly, his words slow and measured. He shot a firm and condescending look toward Captain Wilkins that showed that he had better not disobey this order or he would suffer wrath. This was Tavington's test to measure Wilkins' loyalty, as he had always been suspicious of local loyalists.

Wilkins heaved a heavy sigh on his horse. His heart was breaking inside him. He knew these people; they were neighbors to him. He had no qualms about burning their houses or property, but how could he have been ordered to slaughter them? How could he burn them to death in their church?

"Give me the torch," Captain Wilkins said reluctantly. He was passed a torch, which he held for a moment as he hesitated. Then, he threw it on to the roof of the church, igniting the structure.

"The honor is found in the end, not the means," said Tavington in twisted words of comfort. "This will be forgotten."

Wilkins just stared silently at his commander.

Tavington said nothing else. He turned on his horse to leave. "Bordon."

Captain James Wilkins sat upon his horse as he stayed behind with a small unit of Dragoons. He watched the destruction of the church with a heavy and aching heart, pondering what he had just done and its consequences. The loyalist officer questioned why he had decided to fight against his own neighbors.

Wilkins felt like he had just sold his soul to the Devil. And he was sure that his leader, Tavington, whom he had seen display everything from devotion, loyalty, and concern for his men, love and caring for his fiancée, as well as cruelty, brutality, and heartless actions toward Colonials and rebels, _was_ Satan Himself.


	19. Chapter 19 The Last Straw

CHAPTER 19 The Last Straw 

"I believe that's the largest quilt I've ever seen," General O'Hara said. He admired the large coverlet, held taut in the wooden frame. "You've obviously spent many hours on it."

General O'Hara was over at the McKinnon House Estate on administrative business with some of the junior English officers staying there. He was finished and readying to leave when he had spotted Miss Stirhaley working on a quilt. It was a very warm autumn day, so she had decided to set her quilting frame up outside and work on it there, under the shade of a large tree. The General had stopped to converse with her and admire her work.

"Yes! As many hours as William and I have been engaged," Karen answered.

"Oh?"

"I started to work on it in England, as a bedspread for the two of us," she began. "Obviously, it made the journey with me across the pond to here, and I have been working on it ever since we became engaged. So that tells you how long I've worked on it!"

The two of them laughed at her statement. It was so well known that she and Tavington had a long running engagement, that some wondered if they would ever get married.

"Well, your Colonel must hurry up and marry you!"

"Oh, no! Before I finish this quilt? NEVER!" she joked heartily, and both of them shared another laugh. "It will take me a few more years of engagement to get it finished!"

"Well, now, this war will be over one day, and as soon as it is, I am sure that Colonel Tavington's mind will forget the fighting and rush to the altar." O'Hara smiled warmly at her in reassurance.

"Yes, I know," she replied. "This conflict and that Ghost of his weigh heavily on him, more so because he's the commander."

Both paused for a moment, looking at the quilt, as if the future might be seen within its tiny stitches and details. She looked back at the General and returned his smile. The commanders may have had some disdain for Tavington, but they genuinely liked Miss Stirhaley.

Karen had been troubled for awhile about William's decision to stay in the colonies after the war. Respecting and liking General O'Hara, she felt she could confide in him. Drawing in a breath and looking at the ground, she began, shyly.

"General O'Hara, I'm worried."

"About what, Miss Stirhaley," he replied with concern.

"William wants us to stay here after the war."

"Well, I can understand that. The Lord General himself predicts that the new aristocracy in the colonies will be landowners."

"But people will remember who William was, what he did and what side he fought on. What if there is………retribution?" She swallowed hard as fear crossed her face.

General O'Hara wanted to assuage the lady's worry. "We're all under the same King and of the same country. And when this conflict is over, life and commerce will resume as usual."

Karen did not reply. Charles O'Hara could tell that the woman was still troubled. He continued.

"If you stay, Colonel Tavington will most likely be given a higher commission in His Majesty's army. As a General of top rank, I'm sure he will earn the respect of the colonists—especially after they realize that they are better off to stay as subjects of the King."

"Will they?" Her pretty face was still dark with worry.

"Miss Stirhaley, everyone will be relieved and thankful when this thing is over," he assured, "that things _will _get back to normal. They always do."

Miss Stirhaley nodded silently, hoping he was right, but not feeling any better. She forced a smile as she looked up at him. Their eyes locked for an instant. Feeling awkward, they both looked down at the quilt again.

Karen broke the silence with a shaky laugh. "I suppose I shall have to quilt furiously the moment he says we're getting married in order to get this project finished."

"Yes, you will," he agreed. He looked at his pocket watch. "I'm terribly sorry. I'd love to stay longer and talk with you, but I'm due back at the Fort."

"I'll walk you to your horse," she said. Karen put down her needle and thread, took the arm that General O'Hara offered her, and walked him to his horse, which was hitched not too far from where she had been working. She thanked him for stopping to talk with her, then bid him goodbye. He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling, as he gave her a nod of his head. She curtsied quickly, then turned and sauntered back to her quilt.

O'Hara had just put his foot in the stirrup and was pulling himself up onto his steed when he heard a voice calling behind him.

"General O'Hara. General O'Hara! I'd like to speak with you a moment," called a rather insistent Mr. McKinnon.

"Yes. That's fine sir, but quickly, though, I'm due back to the Fort soon," the General said, coming back down to the ground by his horse.

"It's about these Dragoons of yours," he began.

Karen was standing near her quilt when she heard the word 'dragoon', which caught her attention. She looked over and saw the estate owner with O'Hara. The young lady was apprehensive, wondering if someone in the unit had done something destructive to the plantation, or had caused some kind of a problem. But, in an instant, she was relieved that it wasn't her business, and sat back down to her sewing.

"What of them?" asked O'Hara.

"Their brand of fighting is barbaric! It is no better than the rebels with their hide, hit and run tactics!"

O'Hara was a little confused. "Brand of fighting? What do you mean?"

"Well, how they conduct themselves," replied McKinnon.

The General bristled. He knew exactly what the man was going to complain about. He shuddered to think how far Tavington's reputation had spread.

"Burning houses and shooting prisoners," McKinnon continued. "Not to mention wounded soldiers."

Karen dropped her sewing and looked at the two men talking. A feeling of dread began to spill over her.

"Drunkiness. Looting—"

"You mean confiscating," corrected O'Hara, trying to remedy the situation. "Our army is always in need of supplies in case a ship doesn't make it across."

"Honestly, their behavior is deplorable," McKinnon exclaimed. "And now, burning churches?!"

O'Hara's eyes widened in horror. The English army had hoped to keep a lid on what had recently happened at Pembroke Village..

"Yes! I know about Pembroke, and so does everyone else across the countryside!"

"Uh….I….Um……" stammered O'Hara, but McKinnon immediately cut him off.

"Disgusting! Horrible! Burning a church with the whole village in there! There were women and children in there!"

O'Hara sighed and looked away, near panic.

"I heard that upon occasion, rebel women and children had been killed, but, I don't understand why a whole village at once," he ranted. "What could an entire town have done that was so bad that they had to be locked in a church and burned alive?!"

General O'Hara's mouth dropped open. He had no idea what to say back.

Karen stood up from her chair. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Even Tarleton's unit doesn't stoop to tactics that low!" he continued. "This is all that Colonel's doing. The word around is that Tavington is out of control and that Lord Cornwallis can't even stop him! I was told that Tavington's the one that gave the order to burn the church."

O'Hara tried to say something but was cut off again by a raging McKinnon.

"Their conduct brings shame and accusation to my family-a good loyalist one at that! It looks to others as if I condone what they do since I let them stay here. I have opened my home to them and your army to help out the Crown and this is how I am thanked?!"

Karen stood there at her quilting frame, frozen in place. She wanted to speak out and call him a liar, but she had heard too much from too many different sources, so she knew he was telling the truth. The young woman was breathing hard now, nearly panting, trying to catch her breath.

Mr. McKinnon continued his tirade. "If this keeps up, I'll have no choice but to turn the Dragoons out. I've got my family to think of, and I can't have rebels coming here in retaliation, whether during the war or afterwards. It's bad enough they got on to the estate recently and shot the windows out of one of the rooms!"

O'Hara sighed and looked down, then back at Mr. McKinnon.

"Now, if you won't talk to Lord Cornwallis about this," he warned, "I will."

"No, that won't be necessary, Mr. McKinnon," the General replied. "I'll speak to him about it."

With that, O'Hara finally mounted his horse and galloped away.

Karen continued to stand there, staring at the now empty spot where the two men had just stood. She was numb. After another catatonic moment, the feeling of tears stinging the corners of her eyes broke the spell. Her breathing seemed to have constricted even more and she felt pain in her heart as it broke. Her thoughts ran wild in all directions.

_Oh, God, no, please not my William. Please! God he hasn't done this. He couldn't have done this! He told me he didn't do things like this! Why would he lie? Did he lie? Why would he lie to me? Oh God. Why? Why ? Why? _

Karen's knees became weak. She dropped back into her chair. Her head dropped into her hands as she began to cry. It was the painful sobbing of sorrow mixed with anguish.

After a moment, she raised her head again, but stared at the ground as she continued to think about things. _Well, Karen, that's it! He has lied to you. And you're going to marry a murderer; a butcher. And then we're going to stay here. We'll never be safe. I'll always fear reprisal. I'll always be afraid he'll be killed. I'll always be looking over my shoulder. I'll always fear for my children. I just can't! I don't want to live in fear. I don't want to be lied to. _

This was it for Karen. This was the last straw. She would not live in fear and she would not be lied to. Her mind was made up. She hurriedly gathered her quilt and its frame and made her way up to her room.


	20. Chapter 20 Pride And Rage

CHAPTER 20 Pride and Rage 

Colonel Tavington and his Green Dragoons were only a few miles from home after three nights of riding, raiding, and ransacking. Even though Tavington was tired, the thought of spending time with Karen perked him up. The unit was riding at a slow, leisurely pace, not wanting to spend their horses, and the Colonel was lagging behind, riding at the back of the group. He was planning something for he and Karen.

William thought he'd ask her to pack a picnic and they could go down by the creek. There, they'd spread a blanket out and enjoy a quiet afternoon together, the same as they had done many times before. He'd let her unbraid his queue, then he'd lay his head in her lap and fall asleep, as she stroked his hair. The colonel knew she wouldn't mind him napping after a tiring mission. He'd ask her to read aloud to him from one of her new books. Yes-a grand but quiet way to spend the afternoon with his lady.

As the estate came into site, the Dragoons stormed onto the plantation as was their custom, looking foreboding in their uniforms and plumed helmets. Tavington drove his heels into his horse's ribs and made a path through the center of the unit. He was leading the pack of thirty or so men now, with Bordon on his right and Wilkins to his left.

Tavington rode straight up to the mansion and jumped off his horse as a servant took the reins. He walked in and ascended the stairway immediately, headed straight to Karen's room. Once there, he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again-no response. William called her name through the door, but was interrupted by a young black servant dusting nearby.

"She's not there, Colonel," she drawled. "She left a note for you. She had me put it in your room."

He thanked her, too tired to show any irritation. Will spotted the note on his desk in his bedchamber, laid his helmet on the bed, and read her letter.

_Dear William, _

_I am sorry, but I have left to go home to England. I can not stay here any longer. I don't feel safe. _

_Also, I don't know that I can trust what you tell me anymore. I heard about what you did to the villagers of Pembroke. You tell me that you don't kill at random, but I just can't understand why a whole village had to be burned alive. They all can't be guilty of whatever it is you think they did. I have honestly tried not to judge your military actions, but I can't let this pass anymore because the consequences of your actions affect us now and will affect our future here as well. Every time you execute innocent citizens such as women and children, the rebels and colonists boil more for revenge against you, whether it is at your expense, mine, or any children we may have. _

_You begged me to stay and I have tried. But, with each day and each act of violence, whether perpetrated by you or against us by rebels, I grow increasingly frightened. I feel I shall only be safe at home with my family. _

_William, I love you very much, but I am very afraid for you and myself. You may write to me at my parent's home. I assure you, I will wait for you until I see you again in England. _

_We can marry then for I still want more than anything to be your wife! _

_Please, William, I know you have your duty, but think wisely as you carry it out. Think about the repercussions of your actions. I know you are not afraid of anything, and that is what I fear most. Since you fear nothing, you have no boundaries and no limits and will try anything. I think that not having any fear is an illusion that gives one a false sense of well being and invincibility. I guess I must do your share of being afraid, since you are not. _

_Oh William,I don't know what else to say to you. I love you so and I will get over all of this and may deal better with it when I feel safe. My heart is broken at having to leave, for I have grown fond of this place and love being with you every day. Know that I will miss you very much. _

_Love, _

_Your Karen _

Colonel Tavington's blood began to boil as he read the letter. By the end, he was absolutely livid at his fiancée for leaving. _How dare she leave, he thought. I strictly forbade her from it before and now she defies me._ He grabbed his helmet and charged down the stairway, her letter still in hand.

He stomped into the parlor, where Mrs. McKinnon was entertaining guests. "Excuse me, Mrs. McKinnon," he said, seething and showing it. "When did Miss Stirhaley leave? And, do you know what direction she was headed?"

"Uh, not that long ago, maybe ten to fifteen minutes," she replied, standing up and taken aback by his anger. "You just missed her. She was heading by coach to Charles Towne."

He thanked her, leaving her confused amidst her guests.

Bordon and Wilkins were just coming in the door as the Colonel charged like a whirlwind between them. Without stopping his pace, he grabbed both their arms, turning them back round facing out the door as he did. "Get back to your horses, we ride out again now!"

Wilkins and Bordon looked at each other, wondering what was going on, and seeing their commander shove a folded piece of paper into a pocket inside his coat. Approximately ten or so of the Dragoons were still mounted on their horses as the Colonel barked at them to stay put. Once the three officers were in place on their steeds, the pack of nearly fifteen men rode off the plantation following Tavington on the main road.

They rode at a furious pace behind their determined commander. Tavington's eyes were looking straight ahead and seemed to be thinking of nothing else.

"Sir, what is it?" Wilkins shouted. He got not reply.

"What's our mission?" Bordon asked at a yell, barely able to hear over the din of horse's galloping hooves. He, too, received no reply.

They weren't sure what to think but had to prod their already tired horses to keep up with their Colonel, who was running away from the pack. After a few moments, Tavington thought he could see a mirage on the horizon that looked like a coach. As they drew closer, he could see more clearly that it was a coach. He rode even faster to catch up with it.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Karen sat quietly in the coach as it rumbled away from Kingston, reflecting on her thoughts and decision to leave. She had been seething at first when she left, mad at hearing of her fiancé's brutality and hearing it second hand! But, now as she thought about it, she found an inner peace with her decision to leave.

Recently, she had grown very afraid of William because of his open display of anger in front of her, sometimes even directed at her, and the persistent rumors of brutality. She saw his temper going out of control and only escalating. He could swing from tenderness to anger in a flash, which frightened her the most. Karen understood that battle weariness, stress on him to catch 'the Ghost', and pressure on him to forget initiative and conform to the orders of his superiors were taking a toll on her colonel. Yet, after making the decision to go home, she felt strangely as if she was abandoning him in his darkest hour.

She told herself that this was mostly job related, which Will was always reluctant to share with her, especially since she was a woman—because he did not want to worry her. So, she thought it best to just wait out the rest of the war in England. Karen knew her Colonel was strong and he could get through this without leaning on her. It wasn't as if he was going to share his duty stresses with her, anyway.

The young woman also realized that his emotional shifts would subside as soon as the war ended. Then, much of the pressure and stress would be off of him and he could lead a regular life with sleep and time off.

Karen theorized as well that her being there with William, while actually good for him the first few years, may actually now be causing him distraction. Maybe the time alone would do him good so that he could relax, think about strategy, and not have to deal with relationship issues or support her. She felt that he was drained enough emotionally without having to deal with her bad days and disappointments. Without her temporarily, it would allow him freedom to expend his energy on the battle at hand.

Yes—she made the right decision. She was heartbroken not to have said goodbye to him in person, but thought it best just to leave quietly so there would be no argument from him, like the last time she tried to leave.

Voices coaxed Karen out of her reflections. "Look, dear, are those soldiers behind us," asked the lady passenger.

"Yes, it is," her husband confirmed.

Karen had been the sole passenger in the coach as it left the estate, but it had recently made a very quick stop in Kingston to pick up a kindly, older couple that was riding with her now. They were sitting in the forward seat, looking backwards out of the coach, as Karen was still seated in the back seat, facing forward.

The young lady thought nothing of this. It was wartime and packs of soldiers for both sides were a common sight to be seen.

"They're getting closer," the older lady observed. "Looks as though they're chasing us."

"No. Probably on a patrol and they are going to pass us," said the older man. "Watch them fly by us!"

Karen smiled at the couple, then turned around and looked at the sight they had seen. She then turned back the right way in her seat.

Then the smile left her face. She turned back to look a second time.

The first time she had looked, she thought the uniforms were red and blue. But, seeing them again, she knew she'd made a mistake. The blue she thought she'd seen was actually green. She started breathing hard as she took a longer look at them again.

She had a frightened look on her face as she turned back around to the couple. "Dragoons," was all she could say. Panic flowed through her and it was evident to the other passengers.

"What is it?" they asked.

Karen could say nothing back, she could only shake her head in disbelief. She leaned forward in her seat and put her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were rounded like saucers; her heart and mind racing. _Oh, God, what do I do? I know he'll try to stop me. I can't stay here. I'm afraid. What do I do? They're chasing us-chasing me! Oh No! William's mad at me for leaving, I know he is. He's been so angry at everything lately. I didn't want a fight. If he catches us, I know we'll have a row. He won't let me leave._ _Why_ _doesn't he understand that I'll be safer in England? He can't protect me all the time. Oh, William, please just let me go quietly. I promise I'll wait for you at home. Oh William. _

She looked back out the window again and could see them closing the gap. She flew between the other couple and opened the trap door to the driver and shouted at him.

"Can't you go any faster," she asked, panic in her voice.

The couple with her didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Please, you've got to go faster!"

"It's alright dear," the lady said trying to soothe her, "It's just soldiers."

Karen was breathing so hard and fast she could not answer. She only watched as the pack grew closer to the coach.

"Damn," she heard the coachman swear. Then, to her horror, she could feel the coach starting to slow down. "Whoa," the driver shouted. Karen shrieked and slammed open the instruction door to the driver again.

" What are you stopping for," she screamed.

"Don't have a choice, Miss," he answered as he slowed his horses. "They're motioning for me to stop and brandishing their guns."

"No. No, Don't stop," cried Karen. "Please don't stop."

The driver paid no heed to her as the coach slowed. He then called in to reassure his passengers. "It's alright, folks. Probably just a routine check. May want to search the luggage or coach for contraband. Hopefully, it will be over in a few minutes."

Karen was shaking her head still in disbelief. Her eyes were brimmed with tears. The other passengers looked at her odd behavior, not sure what to make of her. _Maybe she was a fugitive or an escaped prisone? Maybe she was a suspected spy, they thought._

But Karen began to shudder. She wasn't sure what to do. Should she try to hide her face? Run? Go Back with William? Try to talk to him and make him understand? The only thing she was sure of is that she wanted to get on a ship and go home for the remainder of this war.

William raised his hand to halt the men. "Colonel William Tavington of the Green Dragoons. We're looking for a passenger that you may have in your coach."

The Dragoons, who still didn't know why they had ridden off, looked at each other with questioning smiles. They were thinking that Tavington had been tipped off about the 'ghost' or some important rebel or Colonial officer, and that they had just caught him in this coach. They covered the driver with their pistols. He raised his hands into the air, not wanting any kind of a struggle.

Karen closed her eyes upon hearing William's voice. _What do I do now? Do something! Anything! _

Suddenly, one of the coach doors flew open and slammed the side of the carriage with a thud. The dragoons saw a female figure jump out of the coach and tear off across the meadow toward the woods. They were all confused, thinking they were to arrest some male rebel or Colonial.

"After her!" Colonel Tavington screamed, rage pelting his words. "Stay here with the coach." Tavington rode off behind the others while a couple of the men stayed behind with the coach and its driver.

William fired his gun into the air. The gunshot stopped Karen cold in her tracks and made her shake. She choked back sobs.

"Karen! Come here to me. Now!" Tavington said insistently in a menacing tone.

Bordon and Wilkins and the other Dragoons were dumbfounded, stopping their horses. Why were they chasing a coach with the Colonel's fiancée in it? Why was Karen running? She looked frightened to them, but they weren't sure what had scared her.

She hesitated for a moment, not sure that she should.

"Karen," William said again, his voice implying that she'd better obey.

Miss Stirhaley noticed that the men all seemed confused. She took the opportunity and started to run again. _If I can just make it into the woods ahead of them, she thought. They won't be able to come after me if they are thick. I can hide in a cave._ She wasn't thinking straight. Panic had clouded her reasoning. She ran as fast as she could toward the woods without looking back.

"Go after her!" snarled the Colonel.

As she sprinted away, she could hear the hoof beats getting closer. The girl ran through a shallow creek, finally reaching the woods. The forest was dense with several low hanging trees where she thought she would be safe. She heard the men dismount and run in after her on foot.

The young woman came to a sharp drop off to a ravine and almost fell. She caught her balance and ran to her left. Soon she found herself against the side of a rock faced hill that she couldn't climb.

Karen decided to run back toward the ravine and take the chance of climbing down into it. From there, she could follow the creek that she could hear running below. But, she had become confused and turned around. As she started to run, she found herself backed into a corner formed by two rock faced hills. Water was trickling down the rock face and onto her.

The rocky crag that Miss Stirhaley had become trapped in was near the edge of the woods, and she could see the Colonel, still on his horse, looking in at her. She backed herself under the rock ledge, hoping there'd be a small hole or cave mouth she could crawl into, but there wasn't.

"Karen, you can't run. You're trapped and we've got you surrounded," he warned. She was genuinely afraid of him now. She'd never heard this tone of voice from him, but knew he was extremely mad.

"No!" she screamed back defiantly. "I'm going home. You can't stop me. Just let me go, William!"

"Bordon," said Tavington with a frustrated sigh, "Go get her."

The adjutant said nothing and made his way into the woods. He was soon within arm's reach of Karen. The Major reached into the rocks and gently pulled her out. She didn't resist.

He walked her out of the woods into the clearing, holding her arm. Karen looked down at the ground the whole time, wondering what to do.

"Bring her to me, Bordon," he said.

Karen broke loose of his grip and jumped behind him, as if she wanted him to protect her.

Bordon immediately felt torn. He felt upset for her because she was obviously frightened, but wanted to comply with his commander. The aide-de-camp kept wondering what had transpired to have caused this whole situation.

"Please don't make me go back," Karen said in a low voice into his ear. "He's angry with me. I think he's going to hurt me."

He wanted to assuage her fears. "No. you'll be—"

"Bordon," Tavington interrupted. "Hand her over to me, now."

Miles knew that Tavington was extremely upset at his fiancée for something. And he believed Karen was truly in fear of him now. He thought she was genuinely frightened. If he handed her back to him, would she suffer any wrath at the hand of Colonel Tavington, he wondered.

"Major Bordon," she pleaded in a subdued voice, "Help me now._ Please_ don't make me go to him."

"That was an order, Major," Tavington growled, "not a request."

"I'm not staying, William," she cried.

"No, darling," Tavington argued menacingly, "you're not going anywhere."

As the couple continued their standoff, William still seated atop his horse and Karen on the ground, Bordon's head began to spin with the two of them yelling at each other. He could only glean the obvious, but wasn't sure how it came to that point. The major became irritated himself at the two of them putting him in the middle of this. Miles was even more mad at his commander for involving the dragoons in a personal situation such as this.

Major Bordon couldn't take their arguing any longer and had to end the standoff immediately for his own sanity. With a frustrated sigh, he reached for the girl thinking that Tavington, though angry with her, wouldn't hurt her physically. Bordon took her arm again and walked toward the Colonel.

"Please, Major," she begged. "Don't make me do this. _Don't_ make me go with him."

Hearing her desperate pleas, Bordon stopped again and thought about not handing her over. If he didn't, he thought he could discuss it with the Colonel. His commander's voice spoiled his logical thinking.

"Bordon, are you being insubordinate?" Tavington asked in a sly voice."Think about it. You don't want that on your military dossier, do you?" He was back to acting nonchalant.

Miles Bordon closed his eyes and — he didn't want insubordination on his military record. _Tavington could be bluffing, he thought, but why chance it? _The aide-de-camp opened his eyes and continued to walk forward, dragging Karen with him. He reached the Colonel and delivered Miss Stirhalry into the hands of Wilkins, who was waiting at the foot of Tavington's saddle.

At this point, Karen broke down and began to cry. "No, don't," she said her voice breaking into tears as he handed her over to Wilkins. "I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry," said Bordon, in a voice filled with personal anguish. He looked away from her for an instant and sighed. Wilkins gently restrained her by both arms at her elbows.

"Don't be sorry, Bordon," said a smug Tavington, "You're just doing your duty."

She tried to reach for Major Bordon, but was held back. "Help me." Her eyes and face pleaded with him as if begging "_please help make William understand just to let me go home."_

Karen nearly broke Bordon's heart as she looked at him. He knew she was afraid to go back. And she was afraid of the Colonel. He had known that the Tavington loved her and worshipped the ground she walked on, but of late, his anger had crossed new boundaries. Major Bordon wondered if Tavington may have reached a breaking point with her. He was afraid, now, that maybe William _might_ hurt her, just to exercise power or to prove a point.

"Don't! No!," she cried as Wilkins was picking her up. Karen looked at all the dragoons in desperation, hoping someone would lurch forward and yank her away. She saw a smattering of confusion, disbelief, and indifference in the faces of the soldiers.

Wilkins handed her up to Colonel Tavington, who placed her in front of him in the saddle. He pinched her small wrists tightly together in one of his strong hands.

"Let me go, William," she said with anger in her voice.

He said nothing and pulled back on her arms at the elbows, gripping them hard enough to make her whimper. The Dragoons looked on, not knowing what to make of things.

Tavington pulled on the reins and his horse turned so he was facing the crowd of cavalrymen. "Get her baggage from the coach," he ordered, composure in his voice, "Take it back to the estate."

The men complied and immediately rode up to the carriage, where the other two dragoons were still holding the driver and his passengers. Bordon and Wilkins were behind them at a slower pace, looking back at Tavington and his fiancée, disconcerted at the situation. They noted in their minds that Miss Stirhaley was struggling against the Colonel's grip.

"Let go of me! I don't want to go back!", Karen exclaimed as she fought against his hold on her, "You can't make me! LET GO!"

"Stop!" he told her, raising his voice. Then he tightened his hold on her arms, his fingers digging in to her.

She caught her breath as she winced aloud. "William!"

He was tired of her resisting. He caught a fistful of her thick hair in his gloved hand and yanked back hard on it, jerking her head backwards as he did. This caused her to cry out again.

"Now, listen to me," he began in a sinister tone into her ear, "I haven't had much sleep lately. I'm weary and sore from fighting and riding. I'm tired of your antics and don't have the patience for this. Now, be a good girl and sit still!"

Karen quivered with fear at William's warning. The young woman was afraid to move or say anything else. She tried hard to fight off tears. Also, she burned with shame at having been detained by the dragoons, with she and Will's personal business hung out in front of them for all to see.

Colonel Tavington urged his horse a few steps to the others at the carriage. When Miss Stirhaley's bags were unloaded and onto the dragoons horses, he signaled the driver to leave. The officer then instructed the men to go on back to the estate and they would see them there a little later.

The brigade thundered off down the road with Bordon and Wentworth taking the lead. Tavington seized Karen's wrists in his hand once again and set off after them at a slower pace, bringing up the rear of the column.

The couple said nothing to each other as they rode. Karen was now too afraid to speak.


	21. Chapter21 Brutality Crosses The Boundary

CHAPTER 21 Brutality Crosses the Boundary 

As the gap began to widen between the group of men and Tavington, he suddenly steered his horse off to the left of the road and headed down through a field just before the edge of the estate's perimeter.

Bordon, who was riding in front of the brigade, looked behind and noticed that Tavington, who was at the rear, was no longer with the group. The aide-de-camp wasn't sure how long it was since the commander split away from the band.

The major was concerned for Miss Stirhaley, not sure what might happen. He was sure that William did not want to talk with her about this at the estate, fearing a scene and that's probably why they were leaving the road. He surmised that Tavington was seeking out a private place for them to talk, disagree, fight, or whatever the case might be. But, Bordon had a bad feeling that the colonel may physically take his anger out on his fiancée. He had never seen or heard of him raising a hand to her, but there was always a first time.

After a moment of thinking and weighing things out, he decided to go back after them, even if it meant he'd be in trouble for not following orders. He would just stay back away from them, but close enough to keep them in sight. Near enough to intervene if the need arose.

Major Bordon pulled his horse up next to Captain Wentworth. "We've lost Colonel Tavington," shouted Bordon. "I'm going to go back and try and find him. Take the men home. You're in charge until one of us appears."

"Yes sir," Wentworth obeyed with a nod of his head.

Miles turned his horse around and rode back past the other dragoons, most of them giving him a wave or nod. When the unit had cleared, he nudged his steed on at a little faster than a trot, searching for signs of where his commander could have gone to. He looked for freshly trampled grass, hoping to pick up the trail.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Tavington's grip on his fiancée never loosened the whole time they rode. Karen was trying to contain her apprehension as they rode off the road and through the field. She wondered what was going to happen. She tried to tell herself that if he should hit her, it would last only a moment then it would be over with. She tried hard to prepare herself for it.

After a few moments, William rode his horse close to an abandoned, ramshackle old cabin that was hidden back off the lane into the plantation. It was near the perimeter of the estate, close to the edge of some woods and a stream. He stopped the horse just outside the cabin and tied the reins to a fence post after dismounting.

Then, he reached up and pulled Karen down off the saddle roughly, his hand once again clutching her arm tightly. When she reached the ground, she never had good footing, immediately lost her balance and fell to the grass. William, still clasping her arm, yanked her hard up off the ground to her feet. She whimpered, feeling as if he would surely pull her shoulder out of the socket. He then hustled her onto the step of the broken down cabin, nearly dragging her.

Once they made it to the door, he pushed her through it and slammed it behind him. Karen backed away from him as he came at her with a menacing look. Suddenly, he lunged at her, grabbed her arm, and threw her hard to the floor. She immediately began to scoot backwards on her bottom away from him and ended up against a wall.

Before she knew it, William was standing over her. Her eyes widened in fear as she raised her arms in anticipation of shielding a blow from him.

His fingers went under her chin, roughly pushing her head up to look at him. "How dare you defy me," he accused her angrily, his jaw clinched.

"William, I just wanted to—"

"You embarrassed me in front of my men with your defiance!" he spat, "Making our private issues public." He knelt down in front of her.

She tried to explain and apologize, truly afraid now. "I didn't mean to embara—"

He cut her off sharply. "Didn't you?" His eyes narrowed in anger, his face seemed hard as stone.

In one motion, the officer seized both her arms, pulled her up to standing, and forced her back against the wall. He leaned in and spoke in an intimidating manner into her face.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to let any woman—fiancée, wife, daughter—ANY— disgrace me!" Tavington never took his icy blue eyes off of her.

He continued. "Our marriage vows will say for you to obey me. You can't seem to do that now," he growled. "If I let you get away with disobedience presently then what do I have to expect from you in the way of defiance once you are my wife?"

Karen's eyes welled up with tears. She struggled to free herself from his iron grip, but he held her firmly to the wall. His words ripped her heart asunder.

"Let me go!" she shouted. "Don't treat me like I'm a captive. I'm your fiancée!"

"Right! And a disobedient one at that!" he yelled. He would show her who would be the boss in their future family.

"I don't tolerate disrespect from my men," Tavington shouted, "And I damn well will not tolerate it from you either!"

"I just wanted to go back to England," she tried to explain in a weak voice fraught with emotion.

"I won't let you dishonor my position as commander," he shouted. "If it looks like I can't control my woman, then people will assume that I cannot control my men. And, if I can't do that, then the officers above me may decide that I'm not fit to lead the dragoons. I'm not going to let that happen. I've worked too long and hard to get here!"

The colonel let go of her and stepped back. The girl was so shocked by his display of anger still that she knew not what to say. She stayed against the wall, feeling safer there.

Tavington stepped away from her, openly tantalizing her with a clear path to the door. "Go ahead and defy me now. You've got no one around to make a show of it for," he challenged.

Karen's heart hurt as he rattled off all these accusations of her. Still, she thought she'd better try and save herself before things went from bad to worse. The young woman lurched for the door. William slammed it shut right in front of her, forcing down the latch with a mighty clang, meanly teasing her.

"Oh, it's not going to be that easy," he taunted, his face contorting into a look of evil.

She jumped back from him, astonished at how he'd just cruelly teased her. Karen choked back the rest of her tears and steeled herself against him. She took a deep breath and stood her ground.

"William, why don't you understand? I want to go home. I'm not safe here," she asserted.

Tavington laughed an evil laugh. "You're not safe here with _me_ now, either," he said ominously. His face contorted into a look of devilish determination.

Her temper began to rise, matching his. After a moment of this battle of wills, she suddenly flew at him, trying to hit him with all her force. She tried to slap his face and use the forward momentum of her body to knock him down so that she could flee. But, he was too fast and strong for her. His hands caught both of her wrists, preventing her blows. The officer twisted her arms up and behind her back, making her wince audibly. Then he slammed her face first into the wall and pinioned her there. The force of her face hitting the wall hurt and caused her to sob unabashedly.

"This is the way that we restrain our defiant prisoners," he said in a wicked voice. The weight of his body was pressing into hers, still holding her against the wall. Oddly, she could feel that he had an erection, for it was pressing against her. For the moment, she stopped thinking of being against the wall and wondered why he was aroused. Karen wondered if the violence of this situation or if his power and dominance over her at the present may have excited him.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, leaning into her ear as he did. He released her.

Karen stayed against the wall for a minute. Crossing her arms and laying them upon the wall, she hid her face in them and sobbed for a moment. She was tired from her struggle with him.

In a moment, she composed herself, then turned to face her angry fiancé. She sniffled and bravely forced back tears again as she prepared herself to receive his fury.

"Rough me up as much as you want," she stated with shaky courage, "but I'm not staying."

This was enough to send William over the edge of rage. He knew what he had to do.

"Can't make you stay, can I? Well," he sniffed, "I'll make it so you won't be able to go home," Then, he added mercilessly, "or any place else, for that matter."

His countenance shifted from bad to worse, as if some malevolent force had possessed his very being. Colonel Tavington's brilliant blue eyes became more icy and glazed over with a profound wrath. His body became inhumanly strong and tense. His jaw was set and clenched tightly; his face was frozen into an expression of furor; his soul erased by madness. It was as if he'd ceased to be William and forgotten who _she_ was, as well.

In an instant, he attacked her with the ferocity and strength he would use against an adversary. The man lunged forward and clasped the bodice of her dress with a speed and force that sent her back into the wall again. With handfuls of material in both his strong hands, he pulled hard and ripped her dress open. As the frock splintered, tiny buttons fell crazily to the wooden floor making faint tapping sounds.

"No! WILLIAM!" she screamed, horrified of his action.

Suddenly his open hand found her cheek, slapping her with a force that stung her skin and brought immediate tears to her eyes. William then pinned her back to the wall again, this time holding her there with his hand around her neck.

Karen began to choke and gasp for breath. She tried to fight against him, her fists beating about his outstretched arm, but the effort had weakened her. William's free hand reached into her bodice and savagely grabbed her breast, kneading it callously.

Miss Stirhaley tried to call out but could not speak. After a moment more of his near strangle hold on her neck, with the lack of breath she felt dizzy and stopped struggling. Her knees became weak and she felt like she was going to faint. Tavington sensed her lightheadedness and relaxed his grip on her. As she leaned back against the wall trying to catch her breath, he began to pull her dress sleeves down off of her shoulders.

In another moment, Karen regained her sense of balance and darted around him toward the door. He caught her by the material of her dress, ripping it further.

"Somebody help me!" she shouted desperately with the hope that someone nearby would rescue her.

Colonel Tavington grabbed her hard by the arm and pitched her into the wall again. She knew he intended to force her to yield to his way. But she was more scared of what he might do to her after the deed was done.

She tried to reason with him. "William, don't!" she cried, "Not this way!"

The colonel lunged at her again, confining her to the wall with his weight. His hands then began to lift her skirts. Karen fought against him, pounding on his chest and shoulders with her fists, trying to slap him and knock his arms down to his sides, and doing her damndest to push him away.

"Don't do this", she sobbed , beginning to wear down from the struggle. "DON'T!"

Tavington then seized her roughly by the arm and shoved her hard to the floor. He came down on top of her and turned her over on to her back. He restrained her by using one of his legs to kneel on her legs and one of his hands to pin her wrists down to the floor above her head. She winced as his knee dug into her thigh.

The officer pulled her skirts and petticoats up with his free hand. Then he straddled her and pushed her legs widely apart with his knees. Although worn out from the fight, she still tried to push him off her body, but he was too strong for her.

Karen was now at his mercy, trapped beneath him. She wept and through her tears she begged, "William, I'm sorry, I won't run again," and her voice broke.

Tavington would not be dissuaded, having now nudged her skirts up to her waist, exposing her femininity to him. With the same hand, he quickly undid his riding breeches.

"Oh, My God," the young lady cried as she dissolved completely into sobs. She was in disbelief that this was happening. How could he do this to her?

Through vision blurred by tears, she saw him reach into his pants and extract his erection. She closed her eyes and turned her head away. "Oh God!" She sobbed. "No, William! Please don't!"

Karen wailed aloud in sorrow, thinking to herself that her innocence was to be taken from her by force, not given willingly by her in her marital bed. This was far from what she imagined it would be. She'd dreamed of a beautiful and tender experience with William for the first time. Instead, it would be marred by violence and brutality.

In a moment, she felt William's hardened penis touching her bare crotch, then she felt him shift slightly. His hand brushed against her thigh, then lightly between her legs as he positioned himself to enter her. She felt his erection against her entrance, just barely inside of it, not yet penetrating.

Tavington hesitated and held himself there for what seemed like an eternity as he lingered above her body, her arms still pinned down. His ice blue eyes were cutting her soul to shreds. His red hot anger had deafened his ears and numbed his compassion to her pleas.

Still, his fiancee tried one last time to convince him to stop. "Don't spoil me," she pleaded in a weak voice fraught with tears.

After she'd said this, she saw his face and eyes soften to a distant confusion. Her heart sprung that maybe she got through to him. He looked up and out a window, into the woods. Then he looked back at her.

Karen saw the expression of fury with no mercy cloud over his face again, and knew that she was sunk. Her body tensed and constricted in anticipation of his invasion. She instinctively held her breath.

Tavington drove into her virgin body roughly, forcing his full length in hard and deep, tearing her open. Karen gasped then howled out in pain as he obliterated the fragile shield of her virginity. His initial plunges and violations of her most intimate flesh made her feel as though her pelvis had been split apart in two. Each savage thrust ripped more and more the delicate, soft skin between her legs.

As he continued to plunder and pound her inside, she felt as though someone had driven a hacksaw up into her. She prayed for a merciful God to make her faint. Karen cried hard and tried to catch her breath. William could only groan and pant, saying nothing while he ravished her.

After another minute of his relentless drilling into her, waves of heat and nausea washed over her body. She could feel his hardness banging against her insides. Each of his continual vicious and deep thrusts made her sicker as she was sure her organs were being forced upwards within her body.

"William stop," she appealed to him again through her tears. Still he continued to defile her.

Her heart and mind raced, feeling nothing but the pain of forced intercourse. But the discomfort was no longer confined to her pelvis; she could feel it overtaking her whole body.

Karen could not fight him as he still held her arms down. She wept as her heart broke, never imagining there would be this much pain and violence. This wasn't the way she wanted it.

"Please stop!" she sobbed weakly. But he didn't. Instead Colonel Tavington moved faster now, pulling nearly his whole length out of her then ramming it full force back in, driving every inch of it into her.

She wanted this to end. A few moments trapped beneath him seemed like forever. Karen summoned up the strength to cry out again. "Somebody help me!"

William's hand then clamped down tight over her mouth and nose to silence her. Her eyes rounded in terror when he did this. The girl could not scream and she struggled to breathe. She thought she was going to suffocate.

Tavington now moved himself within her using shorter and harder thrusts. As his strokes became even faster, he released his hand from her mouth. The young woman sucked in some much needed air then closed her eyes. She turned her head away from him, weeping all the while.

After another moment of his pounding, Karen heard his breath become labored and felt his body go rigid. She wondered how much longer he'd go on and how much rougher he might become with her. _Oh, God please! Stop him or make me numb, she prayed._ In a flash, the girl strangely remembered a conversation with William in which he told her that the first time would hurt, but that the pain would eventually subside. This first time for her the discomfort never diminished.

William began to moan, which made Karen open her eyes and look back at him. Above her, he closed his eyes and threw his head backward. Then he groaned deeply from his throat as he released his seed into her. She felt a warm wetness filling her up at the same time she felt his manhood throbbing within her.

Then he collapsed on her, panting as he did. But she didn't care. And even though the weight of his body pressed her down for the moment, she was thankful and relieved that his movements had ceased. Miss Stirhlaey wasn't thinking about what might happen next, if he might hurt her further—or worse.

After a minute William's breathing slowed as he relaxed. Then he eased his length out of her and sat back, leaving her splayed open and crying softly. When he moved off of her, she pushed her skirts back down and rolled slowly and painfully from her back onto her hands and knees, wincing aloud as she did. She started to crawl away, so dazed by what had just happened that she wasn't crawling in the direction of the door. It didn't matter; she just wanted to get away from him.

As the girl crept away from him, her head pounding and body aching terribly, she felt herself being yanked off the floor. William had sprung to his feet and seized her by the arm again, pulling her upwards. He partially carried her, then dragged her back to a corner of the cabin, where he shoved her onto the floor.

It was then that Karen lost all hope that she was going to escape that cabin. She drew her knees up to her chest, folded her arms on them and began to cry again.

William said nothing to her. He took a moment to button his pants and tuck his shirt back in. Then he stepped over to where she was, reached down and cupped her chin with his hand. He yanked her head upwards, forcing her to look at him. He knelt down in front of her, only inches from her face.

"Don't ever defy me again," he warned in a slow, calculating, and ominous tone. Her eyes were frozen with his. She couldn't look away and was too afraid to speak.

Colonel Tavington released her chin and stood up. He turned away from her, scanning the hut for his helmet and riding gloves. He spotted them on a rickety chair against a wall, just where he had discarded them at.

In a moment, he had moved over to the chair, gathered his things then looked back at his forlorn fiancée. "I have taken your virtue and honor," he said as he picked up his gloves. He became quiet for a moment as he pulled his gloves into place, pressing them into an excellent fit on his hands. Then, he scoffed at her, as if in disdain.

"I left my seed within you," he pointed out to her. "What if you become pregnant?" He took a couple of steps forward and looked down at his rumpled and teary eyed fiancée, her body folded into a corner. "You could be ruined for life."

Colonel Tavington stepped in yet closer, then knelt down again in front of her. She couldn't scoot away from him, her body already blending into the wall. Instead, she put her arms up in front of her face, anticipating a blow from him. She tried to choke back a sob.

"What will you do, hmm?" Tavington asked, nearly jeering, his eyebrow arched in disdain.

"You can't stay here in this country alone, unmarried and with child, " he began in a soft dreadful voice, "you'll be shunned by all." Tavington caught her arms and pushed them down away from her face. He reached out to touch her cheek, which she tried to refuse, pulling her head back and away. He placed his hand anyway on her, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Then he pushed her head back around so that he could look at her face, now dirty and tear streaked.

"Your child—our child—will be a bastard," said William. "You don't want that now, do you? Yet, you can't go home to England either. Your family will turn you out."

Still kneeling in front of her, he pulled his hand back from her face and looked down at the floor, shaking his head. Then he looked into her eyes. He failed to see the heartbreak and pain that he alone had just caused.

He continued. "Even if your family should accept the situation, they will be disgraced. Dishonored, if you will, because of you." He stood up and looked down at her.

"They may be…" he started, then stopped, as if looking for the right word, "excused…from society, their friends, family. It would be quite a scandal. You don't want to embarrass them? Hurt them, do you?"

Tavington paused in his soliloquy for a moment. Then, he added in a cruel manner, "Whatever will become of you?"

Karen closed her eyes and hung her head down. She tried to block out the sound of his condescending voice. She just couldn't seem to absorb everything he was saying; in fact, she just wanted to run from it all.

The young woman remained silent as William went on, too astonished to say anything, too shook up to think straight enough to form the words of a sentence.

"Alas, you and I share a similar fate," said William in an almost whimsical tone. "My brand of fighting has caused a scandal and brought disgrace, so my superiors tell me, to their gentlemanly military. Tarnished their good image, if you like."

Colonel Tavington was quiet for a moment, then went on. "So, it seems that neither of us can return to England with any honor."

He walked over to the door and put on his plumed helmet. "I'll come back for you in awhile." William was silent for a moment, anticipating her to beg him to stay or to protest her situation. She said nothing.

The Colonel opened the door to leave, then halted for a moment to add an afterthought. "It looks as though you must stay and wallow in shame with me."

With that, he disappeared through the door and left. Poor Karen Stirhaley began to cry again, seemingly unable to stop her flow of tears.


	22. Chapter 22 Guardian Angels

CHAPTER 22 Guardian Angels 

Bordon saw his commander exit the ramshackle cottage and leave, riding toward the fort to meet with Cornwallis. The officer had hidden himself and his horse well in the woods, yet staying close enough to spy on the cabin.

Moments earlier when the major had left the dragoons, he estimated the time from which he'd last seen Tavington and his fiancée until the time they disappeared and surmised that he wasn't too far away from where they could be. Miles found a narrow, overgrown trail that looked as if it was freshly trampled down. He followed it until he heard a faint scream. As he got closer, he found a rundown shack near a creek.

The aide-de-camp hid himself in the underbrush. He heard intermittent pleas for help mingled with stretches of only babbling water. Miles still had misgivings about interfering in this couple's personal matters, whatever they were, though he worried for Miss Stirhaley, who seemed genuinely scared. The man made the decision to wait a little longer, then would charge in with the next scream.

Bordon became troubled when there was no sound or activity coming from the hut. The Major feared the worst—that Tavington had killed her, but tried to stay calm and rational, reasoning that his commander loved his fiancée and wouldn't hurt her. Just when he'd decided to check on the couple was when Tavington emerged through the door without Miss Stirhaley. He knew then that the fight or whatever had transpired was over, and there was no need to confront the colonel and his foulness.

Waiting until after the dragoon leader had ridden from sight, Miles crept up to the cabin and entered it cautiously, afraid of what he might find. The door squeaked when he opened it. A gasp from within scared Bordon, who instinctively drew his pistol. As he peaked around the door, he saw a pitiful Karen, cowering in a corner and sobbing. He holstered his gun and crossed the small bare room to where she was.

As the officer approached her, Karen shrieked and tried to scoot away, forgetting that she had been trapped in a corner on the floor. The girl didn't realize it was Bordon for the tears in her eyes blurred her vision. The red and green of the uniform was enough to startle her, thinking her fiancé had come back to inflict more damage. The young woman had been so consumed in the whirlwind of nonsense pummeling her mind that she had not heard him ride away.

Major Bordon dropped to his knees in front of her. Upon closer inspection, her hair was messed up, her face and clothes dirty. Tears had left clean outlines in the dirt on her cheeks. Her dress was torn in places, her corset and underclothes he could see clearly in view thanks to her shredded bodice. The girl's eyes were red and swollen as she continued to weep softly. Either from cold or fright, Major Bordon could not make out which, she was shaking.

Bordon was alarmed at her condition, and could only venture to guess what had gone on. "Are you alright, Miss?" he asked.

When Karen realized it was Bordon, she started sobbing hard again. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she rocked back and forth as she cried. She felt embarrassed, as if Bordon and the rest of the world knew what had just gone on in the cabin.

The major wasn't sure what had gone on between the fighting couple. There was hardly any furniture, not enough to have been overturned or broken indicating a serious physical altercation. He reasoned that her dress could have been torn from trying to flee, Tavington grabbing the material to stop her. He quickly pushed rape from his mind, knowing it must be important to the couple for her to be a virgin on their wedding night.

The poor girl continued to bob and weep, not answering Bordon. When she didn't, he carefully touched her forearm to get her attention. "It's alright," he comforted, "he's gone. I saw him leave."

Karen stopped rocking and sobbing and looked at the officer. She remained mute, feeling somewhat relieved that Will was gone.

"How are you," asked Miles with concern. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head and mouthed the word 'yes' as she tried to hold back more tears. Karen could only answer with a request. "Help me out of here," she pleaded in a shaky voice, "He says he's coming back for me."

"Certainly," the officer replied. "Can you walk?"

"I don't know. I think so," replied Karen.

Miles hunched over and helped her put her arm around his shoulders then he slowly lifted her to her feet. She groaned as he did, her body now feeling the results of Tavington's roughness.

Karen's pelvis, crotch and hips, especially from being pried open, were beastly sore. But her entire body now, as well, felt the full effects of being shoved about and the subsequent vicious rape. Her cheek still stung from when he'd slapped her. The right side of her face was red and starting to swell from where he slammed her face first into the wall; no doubt to leave a bruise.

She was hurt, bruised and exhausted from trying to fight him off. Her mind and emotions, too, suffered, as she was now completely scared of William and feeling utter confusion at this marred first sexual experience. Only time would tell what lingering effects this brutal attack might have on her soul.

Miss Stirhaley stood leaning on Bordon for a moment trying to get her balance. "Please….don't…..don't walk yet," she begged him breathlessly. "I feel dizzy." Her knees felt weak and she had a pounding headache. The officer complied, standing stockstill for a minute as the woman regained her bearings.

"Let's go," she pleaded weakly. She winced as she took her first couple of steps, he hips hurting. Then she gritted her teeth as the major, holding her securely, helped her walk gingerly out of the hut.

Once beyond the cabin a few feet, she shivered when a cool breeze hit her flushed and hot skin. Karen suddenly felt faint again. In an instant, her knees buckled under her and she went down, taking Major Bordon down part of the way. She groaned as she fell onto the grass.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this," she apologized. "I'm just so…….my legs…..my whole body aches."

"It's alright. Rest easy here for a moment and I'll bring the horse round."

As Miles got up to leave, he felt a weak tug at one of his pants legs, like a child trying to get a parent's attention. He stopped and looked back down at Karen, who was as pale as a white sheet. She sat forward, holding her middle, and had broken out in a sweat.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

The major immediately scooped her up into his arms. He scurried down a small slope to the nearby stream where he set her down at the edge. Staying near her, he watched with concern as she vomited. He helped her to sit back against a tree when she was done.

Bordon took the cravat from around his neck and wet it in the stream. He wrung it out and wiped her mouth. The officer rinsed it in the stream and squeezed the moisture from it, then dabbed it across her face, wiping off the light dust and tears. Then he ran the cold cloth over her neck, the top of her chest, and her arms. The coolness eased her tension and flushed skin, but brought tears back to her eyes. She caught his hand as he finished wiping her arm.

Bordon looked up to see her freshly wiped cheeks now wet with tears. "I just wanted to go home to England," she simply said, voice breaking. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I didn't feel safe here anymore. This is my fault."

"No it's not," exclaimed Bordon in a controlled tone. He dipped the cloth in the creek again and squeezed the excess water from it. "It's his fault for not understanding," remarked Bordon as he wiped her new tears away.

The officer folded the cravat neatly to form a rectangle compress, then continued. "William should have made you feel safe, and if that entailed letting you go home, then he should have done just that!" He placed the compress on her forehead.

She closed her eyes for a moment and became quiet. Major Bordon was relieved that she finally could relax.

There was a slight stirring in the brush nearby. This caused Bordon to rise to his feet as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Staying near Miss Stirhaley, he looked over the undergrowth, ready to pull the weapon if necessary. After another cautious moment, there was no more disturbance, making him think it was just an animal.

Karen opened her eyes and looked up at Bordon, still standing guard over her. "He slapped me," she said.

Bordon knelt back down in front of her, giving her his attention.

"I thought he was going to beat me," she remarked, "He was so angry."

"So he just shoved you around a bit instead," Bordon scoffed sarcastically, assuming that is what his commander did. "He makes no bones about showing his strength and power……..I thought you were exempt from that." He took his red jacket off and wrapped it around her for she was shivering again.

She thanked him, then looked at the ground, dejected. After a moment of quiet, she spoke again.

"May I have your handkerchief," she asked him.

He told her yes and retrieved it from his jacket pocket. "I'm going to go have a look, and if it's all clear, then we'll start off for the house," said Bordon. Then he pulled his pistol from his belt and placed it on the ground beside her. "Just in case," he said.

She shook her head. "I don't think I could shoot him," she said. He knew she was referring to shooting at Tavington.

"You don't have to shoot the colonel," Bordon remarked with a smile, "just shoot any rebels or bandits."

She smiled a bit, then looked sadly back down at the ground.

"You're more scared of him now than anything else, aren't you?"

She nodded yes.

"I won't be long," he said. He crawled cautiously up the embankment and took off toward his horse, surveying the area for activity.

Once Bordon was gone, Karen put her hand beneath her skirt and between her legs to check herself. Her crotch area throbbed and burned, and she wanted to soothe it. As she felt herself, the skin was torn and tender to the touch. She thought it had begun to swell slightly and though she couldn't see it, it had begun to bruise as well, from his forced entry. As the young woman brought her hand back out, there was blood on her palm and fingers. What her friend Carolyne had told her was true: that she would bleed virgin blood after her first time.

She rinsed the maroon fluid from her hand in the creek. Karen wet Bordon's handkerchief to use as a cold compress. She folded it then gently placed in on the damaged flesh between her legs. This brought immediate relief to her soreness there. Feeling a little more soothed and comfortable, she sat back against the tree and sighed, trying to relax.

Major Bordon came back in a few moments as he had promised. He found his ward still reclining against the tree, looking a little more peaceful than when he had left her.

It's all clear up there," said Bordon. "He should be occupied at the fort for awhile." He knelt down to pick up his pistol and as he slid it back into his belt, he said, "C'mon. Let's get you to the house so that you can decide what you would like to do."

"Thank you. May I rest another minute or so," she asked of the officer. "I still feel dizzy."

"Surely."

Miles was quiet for a moment as he sat down next to the girl. Seeing the condition she was in hurt his heart. He hesitated, then began slowly.

"Karen. I am so sorry that I turned you over to William," he apologized, his voice sincere and pathetic.

"It's not your fault," she said in a subdued voice, trying not to cry.

"But he wouldn't have hurt you if I'd have stayed with you."

"Miles," she said with a sniffle, "he would have hurt me later when you weren't around. And he would have had you punished for insubordination."

"I didn't think he would hurt you," Bordon commented. "I thought he was just being his usual imposing self. He is so stern and authoritative, sometimes downright intimidating, to everyone. I thought it was just another day."

"No. I could sense and feel a difference in him toward me," he stated. "I've never seen him so angry. He didn't want me to leave. My mistake was leaving a note for him. But I love him. I felt that he deserved to know where I was going."

"I shouldn't have turned you over," Bordon said again.

"No," argued Karen. "William was wrong for putting you in the middle of it and forcing you to choose between he and I. It was wrong of him to exploit your sense of friendship and duty."

Karen went on as she wiped a tear from her eye. "They day that you caught us arguing in my room, we were fight over me wanting to leave. After I saw how he acted that day at the fort with that Martin man, and heard that man's threat to kill William, I've grown increasingly frightened—for both of us. The letter I left for him today was to tell him that I was afraid and that I was going home to England. He said I was disobedient and defied him today. William forbade me from leaving on the day of that argument."

A quiet moment passed between the two, both thinking about and still in utter disbelief over the happenings. Major Bordon broke the silence.

"Shall we go?"

Karen nodded 'yes'.

With that Miles knelt down beside her, picking up his things to pack into his steed's saddlebags. He noticed his handkerchief he'd given her, now soiled red, laying on the ground next to her.

The officer immediately became distressed, upset with himself that he had missed one of her injuries in his haste to care for her.

"What's this? I….I'm sorry. I must have missed some of your wounds," he said, confused. He lifted her hair and looked at her neck, then looked up and down her arms, trying to find a gash or cut of some sort. Bewildered, his eyes innocently scanned the rest of her body and dress trying to find a bloody wound. "I can't see where you are hurt at?"

As his hand reached the end of one of her arms after checking it over for cuts, Miss Stirhaley grabbed his hand and held it for an instant. She said nothing. Her actions confused him. "What's wrong?"

"You…..You can't…….see the blood," she stammered. Then she let go of his hand and lowered her head, looking down toward her crotch, then she looked back up at him straight in the eyes.

She wasn't making sense to Bordon. Karen could see that he was lost, yet she was too embarrassed to just say what had happened. So, she placed her own hand gently on her lap over that area. She looked at Bordon's eyes again.

In an instant when his eyes rounded and his jaw dropped she knew that he understood, just by the incredulous expression in his face. "Surely he didn't……." his voice trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. But his heart sank when she nodded her head yes.

"He raped me. I think he tore me apart," she said, her voice quivering as her eyes welled up again.

"Oh God," Bordon said, as he shook his head in disbelief. Seeing the blood on the cloth, he assumed correctly that she had been a virgin until that point. He could not believe that Tavington would steal her virtue by rape. This was a new low, even for Tavington, he thought. Reprehensible. Appalling!

"It was so cruel and humiliating! I can't even speak about it."

"Shhhhh," he quieted her. "You don't have to."

The officer sat down next to her for a moment, trying to take in all that had transpired. Then he looked at Miss Stirhaley and could tell that she was fighting hard to hold back emotion.

Miles took her hand in his and shook his head dejectedly. He spoke again in a soft, far away voice, simply saying, "I didn't think he'd hurt you."

With those plain words, Karen broke down again. "I didn't think he would either," she sobbed.

The major put his arms around her, holding her as she wept, trying to be as much comfort to her as he could. He continued to feel horribly over the whole situation as he held her, wishing again that he could take back his actions of earlier in the day. _I should have let her go, he thought. I should have let her keep running._

After a moment of crying, Karen composed herself again and pulled gently away from Miles. She looked at his crimson stained handkerchief and felt badly.

"I'm sorry," began Karen, "I think I've ruined it." She touched the handkerchief. "I was just so sore there, and needed a cold compress and—"

"It's alright," he said. "Let's get you back." He was completely dumbfounded, not knowing what to say and not thinking it proper to speak of with her.

Bordon carried her up the embankment to where his horse was tied. He started to lift her to the saddle when she groaned. He immediately put her back down, thinking he'd aggravated her pain further.

"I don't think I can ride after that," she said, referring to her intimate soreness.

"I don't think you can walk the distance either," he stated, reminding her how weak she was when she had fallen just moments before.

"I'll coax him to walk slow and carefully," he promised her as he patted his horse's neck.

She relented and agreed to ride. He mounted first, then, with her helping as much as she could, he lifted her by the arms after she hoisted herself up part of the way with one foot in the stirrup. He sat her in front of him on the saddle, with both her legs dangling to one side.

The officer coaxed his horse on. The first few steps jarred Karen's battered body. She groaned, telling herself that the ache would subside soon. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she settled in for the ride.

Both said nothing on the slow, gentle trek back to the main house. Halfway there, a weary Karen leaned back on Bordon for support. In a flash, she remembered herself and thought it not proper to do that. With her suddenly jerking away from him, he knew she was thinking it wasn't fitting.

He eased her fears. "It's alright if you need to lean back," he told her in a comforting voice. "It is completely innocent."

With that, she sighed in relief and leaned back on Bordon, closing her eyes again. She tried hard to blot out the day's ugliness, but couldn't. It kept replaying in her mind.

In a few minutes they arrived at the house. Luckily, there was no one milling about on the porch, as there usually was. Miles thought he'd better get her in and up to her room as soon as possible, with no one seeing them, if they could be that lucky. Bordon did not want to chance any questions being aroused.

Major Bordon carefully helped Karen off his horse. He buttoned his jacket on her as best as he could to hide her torn bodice. She leaned heavily on him as they started up the steps. She froze when he heard voices.

"What is it?" the Major asked.

"I can't do this," she answered, her eyes brimmed with tears. "It was so humiliating; I feel as if everyone knows what happened."

"They don't," he assured. "But if you're crying, they'll suspect something." Bordon leaned in closer to talk lower. "Just be brave and choke the tears back long enough for me to get you upstairs."

Karen nodded in compliance.

They started up the steps again. She took a deep breath before they entered the house.

Bordon leaned into her. "Stay yourself……..Calm."

She nodded, and they started through the door. They immediately encountered the servant Laura upon entering the abode. She saw Karen's condition and Bordon helping her, and gasped loudly. She ran to them and exclaimed, "What happened?"

Major Bordon evaded her question with a request. "Um, would you please help me get her upstairs?"

"Yes Sir," she complied, taking Karen's other arm to help. As she did this, both Mr. And Mrs. McKinnon ran in.

"What happened?" asked Mrs. McKinnon

"Uh, she was tossed from her horse. Quite a bad spill," Bordon replied quickly and casually.

Both McKinnons looked at each other in confusion. They first saw her earlier as she was leaving for England in a coach. Then her luggage returned without her, and now she appeared hurt and disheveled from a horse ride.

"Shall I send for the doctor," asked Mr. McKinnon.

"Oh, no, no," answered Bordon. "She'll be fine. She's just a bit shaken up. No broken bones."

They bade him to call them if she needed anything else. He thanked them and continued slowly up the stairs.

Each step was painful to Karen, still wracked with the hurt of Tavington's roughness. She tried to keep her whimpers and gasps under her breath.

"I know," Bordon acknowledged her pain softly. "Only a few more steps."

Laura looked over at Miles as they continued to help Miss Stirhaley up the stairs. "What happened?" she asked softly. "She wasn't thrown from a horse—I helped her pack to leave for England."

"I'd rather her tell you," he replied in a subdued voice.

Laura nodded her head, knowing something dreadful had happened.

Soon, they were at the doorway to her room. They helped her in and sat her in the wingback chair by the fireplace.

"Miss Laura, would you please draw her a hot bath right away," he requested.

"Yes, Sir," she acknowledged.

"Oh, and please help her to undress and dress. She's very sore."

With that, she left to fetch water and Bordon disappeared to the floor above.

After a minute, Karen realized she was alone and became scared. She heard a lone horse gallop up outside and heard the rider dismount. Thinking it was her fiancé, she panicked, afraid of being hurt again. She had to protect herself somehow.

A few minutes later, Bordon returned to the room. Karen was nowhere to be seen.

The maid walked in after he did with soap and towels.

"The water is heating," she said.

"Good," replied Bordon. "Miss Stirhaley with you?"

"No sir, I don't know where she is."

"Did Colonel Tavington return," he asked in a tone of alarm.

"Not that I know of," Laura answered.

"We've got to find her!"

The servant left the room to look in the hallway and downstairs. Bordon opened the window and stuck his head out to see if she was outside.

_She can't be far, he thought. She's too sore to run away again. _

The maid returned. "Haven't seen her sir, and no one downstairs saw her leave."

Bordon sighed and looked around the room. He saw her luggage that the dragoons had seized from the coach still stacked up by the bed. His eyes scanned the room again and spotted the chair that sat in the corner slightly askew.

He walked over to it. Major Bordon dropped down to a squat looking behind the chair, finding Karen there. She had curled herself into a ball and looked pathetic. She was hiding like a frightened child.

"It's alright, Karen," assured Bordon. "You can come out. He'll have to go through me to get to you now." She stayed where she was and said nothing. Instead, she looked up at him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Tears dulled the emerald green of her eyes.

He gently grasped her arms and scooted her out. With her back against his chest and his arms about her, he readied to help her to standing. But she clung to him. She held onto his left forearm with both of her arms, burying her face in his left bicep. She began to cry. He just sat there a moment and held her while she did.

Tavington had been right in his conversation with Wilkins. Had Karen met Bordon first, she would most likely be with him instead. But, Miles, being honorable, would never steal his friend and commander's lady. Indeed no. He felt no attraction to her, only compassion for her plight. He could take advantage of her weakness in this time of desperate need, but Bordon was too valorous to do so.

"Why?" she lamented. "Why would William do this? I don't understand." She muttered these words over and over.

Bordon understood, though. For Tavington,this was a despicable show of power and a way to exercise intimidation.

After a few minutes passed, Major Bordon helped Karen back to the chair. The servant Laura was still there, concerned, trying to figure out what grave thing had happened to Miss Stirhaley. There was a contemplative quiet for a few moments. Karen and Miles were each thinking hard about what to do.

Bordon started to pace slowly in front of the fireplace. Then he broke the silence.

"What do you want to do?" he asked Karen.

"I can't stay. My whole purpose for leaving was that I am not safe near William so long as he is terrorizing the locals. But now, I am as afraid of him as I am of the vengeful Colonials."

"Go back to England?"

"I don't think so," she answered the Major's query. "But nevertheless, I will go somewhere."

"Alright then, it's settled," Bordon announced. "I've some maps in my room. We'll look at them together and figure out a safe place for you. I've got the hotbeds of activity marked on them. We can leave immediately."

"No, Miles," she said.

"What do you mean? I want to help."

"I know you do," answered Karen. Her voice finally purveyed a calmness. "But you and William are friends, and he is your commander. There is a war on. I won't have you doing anything to risk your position on my account. I won't be responsible for your court martial."

"But, it's my choice if I want to—

"No!" Miss Stirhaley cut him off firmly. "I need to do this on my own."

"You know William will look for you," he stated.

"Yes, and that's why the less people that know where I am, the better."

"But you may—"

"Miles, listen to me," she began. He knelt on the floor in front of her. "You and William go back farther and longer than I've been in the picture. I won't jeopardize your friendship. And, I will not have you torn between being a gentleman to me, and your duty to country and commander. William needs you now at his side—it's your duty."

"He did something hideous to you and you still defend him," spat Bordon.

"I'm not defending him. I'm protecting you," Karen remarked.

"Well, I can take care of myself!"

"I know. But still, to protect you is to protect myself as well. It is selfish, really," she admitted. "You see, I know that Colonel Tavington will ask you about me because he will assume, being the gentleman that you are, that you helped me. So, if you are truly ignorant of my whereabouts, then you'll have no reason to lie to your leader. I refuse to put you in the bad position of having to choose between your friend and his fiancée."

"I'll be worried for you," he stated, sounding defeated.

"I'll be fine." She smoothed back his strawberry blonde hair with her hand.

"He'll search relentlessly," warned Bordon.

"I know. I'll hide well," she said.

"Then what?" asked Bordon.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'll have time alone to ponder that."

Bordon stood up tall and sighed. He turned toward the fireplace, then looked back at her. "I am so fed up with his antics and what he commands the Dragoons to do, almost to the point of being sickened by it!"

"I know you have a heavy heart," she began. "You've always wanted to do the right thing and be noble. You are a righteous man, a noble warrior, and a true gentleman." She crooked her finger and motioned for him to come before her again.

He knelt down in front of her. "Thank you for rescuing me today, and helping me always." She kissed his cheek and continued. "Thank you, for continuing to stay loyal to Colonel Tavington, even though he makes it difficult sometimes. He needs your good judgment and steadfastness to help him in leading the dragoons. And thanks for staying friends with him all these years. I know he has worn out your patience, but, William needs you as a confidant!"

Major Bordon closed his eyes and sighed. Then, he moved forward and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. "Take care," he whispered with his lips against her skin.

He turned to leave her. She turned in her chair and said to him as he neared the door, "I'll send word to you somehow."

He nodded his head and left her.

After Major Bordon left the room, she asked the servant to close the door. Without disclosing too many details, she told Laura what had happened that she needed to hide from Tavington.

The servant had taken pity on her when she saw her state earlier. She spoke up and offered Miss Stirhaley an old cabin on her parent's meager plantation. Laura explained that the farm was small and barely yielded enough money and food to survive, and that the loyalist family themselves worked it

"It sounds perfect!" Karen exclaimed. She knew it would be an adjustment living there, but she would be grateful just to have a roof over her head and a safe place to hide out from her Colonel. "Will my rent money help your family out?" She was concerned for their welfare and did not want to be a burden on a family that was already strapped.

"Yes, Miss," replied Laura with a big grin on her face.

"Then I'll pay generously," Karen said, smiling. She felt relieved to have a secret place to stay, and felt uplifted that she could help out a struggling loyalist family. "And will my money by your family's silence, as well? Because, I am afraid he'll hurt me if he finds me."

"Yes! You can trust us to keep the secret." Laura was trustworthy. She genuinely liked Miss Stirhaley, as all the servants did on the estate. Even though she was wealthy, she never acted uppity, like some of the others in the mansion, and was always very polite and courteous to the staff.

Laura left to check when or if another coach was expected through there soon. When she was gone, Karen stood, still stiff and hurt, and looked out the window with mixed emotions. She was afraid of William, and scared to be alone. The young woman didn't really want to leave the estate she had grown fond of, but felt she had no other choice. And, yet, part of her knew she would eventually miss William, even though he'd treated her abominably today. Part of her still loved him, yet part of her hated him now, as well. With her trust now violated, she felt she could trust no one or rely on no one but herself. Yet, the Lord had given her two guardian angels on Earth today. Bordon and Laura both came forward in her time of need. She was grateful that the Lord was already renewing her trust by sending them to help her. She would never forget their kindness.

When Laura inquired downstairs about the coach on Miss Stirhaley's behalf, she had noticed that a delivery wagon from Devington Mills was unloading large bags of flour and sugar for the estate. This gave her an idea.

Her family's plantation was on the road to the town of Devington. She approached the driver outside and asked if she and another lady could hitch a ride with him on his way back to the mill. The lady passenger was wealthy and would pay him. He agreed.

Soon, she and Karen were loading her bags into the flour wagon then climbing in for the ride themselves. Laura made the excuse to Mrs. McKinnon that she was going to drop off the mistress' payment to Devington Millinery Shop and that Miss Stirhaley was going to ride into town with her to catch a coach to leave. Laura would later walk or catch a ride back to the estate. While she was supposed to be in town taking care of business, she would really be helping Karen settle in to the cabin and explaining to her family, and would take care of getting the note and payment to the milliner that evening. Then, that way, no one would suspect her of helping Karen to escape.

This time when Karen left McKinnon House, she left no note or explanation for William.


	23. Chapter23 Major Bordon's Request

CHAPTER 23 Major Bordon's Request 

"Has Colonel Tavington returned yet," Major Bordon asked third in charge Captain Wentworth

"No, Major," Wentworth answered, jumping to attention from his seat on the steps of the house's porch.

"Good," Bordon replied. "I need to see all Dragoons as soon as possible at the fire ring behind the small barn. Short meeting."

"Uniforms? Formal?" asked Wentworth, so he could forewarn the men if they needed to button vests and coats, tie cravats, etc, not knowing the nature of the meeting and if VIP's were going to be present.

"No. Informal," Bordon answered. "Just us."

"Yes, sir." And with that, Captain Wentworth hurried off the porch to gather the Dragoons. Bordon walked to the outhouse to relieve nature then to the well to draw a drink of cool water as the men were gathered.

In a few moments, Bordon joined the men assembled behind the barn. He purposely wanted the meeting out there as it was out of the mainstream of the estate and out of earshot of anyone who was not a Dragoon.

"As second in command," began Major Bordon, "I have taken it upon myself to call this meeting and I will assume full responsibility for it."

He took a sip of water, then continued. "If you weren't with Colonel Tavington and myself in the last two hours or so, then no doubt you have heard what transpired."

Bordon looked around at the faces of the silent Dragoons. No one spoke up, but he knew that by now, they had heard from their fellow soldiers what went on.

"I am here to reiterate that it is against policy to use the Green Dragoons for personal use and that Colonel Tavington made an error in judgment by doing so in these last hours."

Bordon paused again, allowing anyone free will to speak was only silence.

The aide-de-camp went on. "He is under strain both professionally and personally and is shouldering an enormous amount of pressure and responsibility from Headquarters to get 'the Ghost.' The fatigue and daily aches and pains that go with war and being a cavalryman that we all experience has only exacerbated his situation. This stress clouded his decisions. I will talk with him about this, so as to prevent future incidents and therefore keep Dragoon arses out of a sling."

He searched the faces of the soldiers again for any comments, then continued.

"I am asking you to refrain from discussing this and not to participate in gossip. This must remain within the Dragoon unit here so as not to damage Colonel Tavington's or the Green Dragoons' reputation. It stays within our confines. I'm trying to keep the Generals from hearing of this in order to squelch trouble before it happens."

"What if we are questioned ," asked a faceless voice from the crowd.

"Well, then, you must tell them the truth," the Major replied. "Tell them what you saw."

"These tactics practiced by Colonel Tavington," Captain Wilkins began, "There is no honor in killing women and children. And, if that's not bad enough, he openly treated his fiancée cruelly."

"Yes, I know," Bordon answered trying to pacify the men, "but what is between Colonel Tavington and his lady is not our business." He remained his fair and diplomatic self, especially in front of the men. He stayed calm.

"But, Major, you saw her, as well as us, all the servants, and our host and family. She was in an awful state." Wilkins words and tone of voice insinuated that he and the others may well have guessed the atrocity that Tavington had committed against Karen.

Bordon began to feel the pressure of one who must answer for and try to defend another's misdeeds. "Yes," he sighed, "I know. I found her. I helped her in—"

"Falling from a horse is a lie," Wilkins interrupted accusingly, raising an eyebrow.

Bordon paused, not knowing exactly how to counter his accusation. He turned and walked to the edge of the fire ring. With the toe of his boot he traced a line in the dirt, stared at it for a moment, then stepped over it symbolically. Miles hated the fact that Tavington's actions had dragged him over the boundary of truth into falsehood.

Bordon turned back to face his men, which was painful to him. "Yes, but it is a lie I must stick to in order to protect her. While I am concerned about the reputation of this unit and our wayward commander, I am equally as worried about the reputation of a fine lady. This is a private and sensitive matter, and I certainly do not wish her to be embarrassed or hurt by words or gossip perpetrated by one of us. Even though whatever you think the worst is that happened to her, don't speak of it! She has been humiliated enough by Tavington and had her trust violated that she need not suffer more at our hands. The rumors, and the truth, if known, will damage her reputation."

"But it wasn't her fault! He chased her down and forced her to go with him," Captain Wentworth said, usually holding his tongue.

"I know," Bordon conceded, "but people who hear the rumors or the truth will not understand and will think badly of her, as if she brought things upon herself."

Bordon turned away from the men, then back at them, eyeing them with the most serious look of concern that they had ever seen from him. "Indeed, this stays buried within our ranks. And that is an order. Dismissed!"


	24. Chapter 24 Brutality Backfires

CHAPTER 24 Brutality Backfires 

Colonel Tavington's horse trotted along at a nonchalant pace up the lane toward the house. Upon returning from his visit with Cornwallis, he stopped at the shack to collect Miss Stirhaley and found she wasn't there. He thought nothing of it, thinking she had walked back to the mansion and was cowering in her room, ready to apologize for her transgressions.

The commander could foresee her door being locked and a refusal by her to let him enter. He prepared in his mind for this. His plan was to threaten to break the door down if she didn't open it(he wouldn't, really, he'd just charm a servant into a key). He thought the threat would suffice, as he had sufficiently reminded her of who was the boss. He was sure she'd comply.

William even decided to talk about moving her to the Fort. She would sacrifice some freedom of movement there, in exchange for better and constant protection. His last thought before nearing the house was to remind her of the implications of deciding things without his agreement or consent.

Colonel Tavington arrived at the grand porch and dismounted, passing the reins to a Redcoat private to walk the horse to the stables. He entered the house with a slight bow of his head as a greeting to the occupants he passed. Once upstairs, he knocked on Karen's bedroom door and called to her with no answer. After a moment, he turned the doorknob and found the door unlocked. He warned her of his imminent entry then turned the handle again.

Tavington opened the door to an empty room. He looked about in disbelief, then stalked angrily to the armoire and tore open the door. It was bare save for Mrs. McKinnon's old dresses hanging in there; no sign of Karen's bags or belongings. He then marched first to the desk, then the dresser and the chest and ripped open the drawers. William was looking for any sign of her: a scrap of clothing, a note, anything! He found nothing.

The Colonel's blood boiled and his heart raced. He began to pant as he stood in the middle of the stark room, his fists clinched to white knuckles. _Damn her, he thought. Damn her to defy me again! _

"She left today, Sir," drawled the voice of a young black house servant.

"I know," he snapped with irritation. "Do you know where and when she left the last time?"

"No."

William stomped downstairs and confronted the McKinnon's, making a scene. All coolness and control he possessed vanished into the cool, crisp air.

Hearing the shouting, the servants, guests, and residents quickly entered the study or milled about just outside the door. It had now become quite a scandal that Tavington's fiancée had packed her bags and left, then the baggage returned without her, then she returned injured from a fall, then she and her luggage left again! One of the Redcoats on the porch commented that it was becoming sport and they should wager on whether or not she would return!

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Laura, the servant who had arranged hastily and secretly for Miss Stirhaley to stay on her family's plantation, heard Tavington's inquisition and panicked! She spied Major Bordon outside at the well filling his canteen. She walked outside to him, nearly in tears.

He looked at her and was immediately alarmed by the look on her face.

"Oh, Miles," she began in a low voice, "Colonel Tavington's returned. He's furious! He's asking questions." The girl wrung her hands, looking panicked. "What do I do?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Shhhhh!" Bordon cut her off immediately. He then gently took a hold of her arm and led her over behind a small outbuilding next to the well. "Did he confront you?"

"No," she answered. "But I _know_ he will. People saw me leave with her this afternoon."

"Well, do you have a story for that?"

"Yes."

Her expression of uncertainty worried him. He was afraid she'd crack under Tavington and give up Miss Stirhaley's whereabouts, if she knew them.

"Listen to me," he pleaded, "You can't let on anything. If he finds her, he will hurt her, do you understand? Do you know what he did to her?"

She nodded her head and said nothing as he continued. "Do you want him to hurt her more?"

"No, she doesn't deserve that. She is very kind."

"Yes, she is," Bordon agreed, "so you must protect her. Look, none of us like to lie, but it isn't wrong to lie to protect someone from harm."

Laura nodded her head and left Bordon to return to the house.

"There she is," someone said as Laura re-entered the house.

Tavington immediately charged up to her. His intimidating presence towering over her, she was glad her skirt covered her shaking knees.

"Miss, you were with Miss Stirhaley last today, were you not?" he asked.

"Yes. I was sir."

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know sir," she answered.

"You must know something," he urged, "you left with her!"

She swallowed as lightly as she could. She forced the guilt of lying down into the lowest part of her soul. "All I know is that she asked me if I knew when or if another coach was coming through and I told her I wasn't sure. I had to run an errand for Mrs. McKinnon in Devington, so I caught a ride into town with our flour wagon. Miss Stirhaley joined us for the ride in, hoping to have luck finding a carriage in town. We parted ways at the Mercantile," she lied. "By the time I came out of the milliner shop, she was gone—"

"Where?" the Colonel asked impatiently.

"I don't know," the servant answered. "I have no idea if she took a coach, was picked up by someone, or what. I am sorry I can't help you, Sir."

"Damn," he swore.

Tavington stood in the foyer for a moment, his rage smoldering. He was compelled to go after her, but had not a clue where to begin. Mr. McKinnon's voice roused him from his slow stew.

"Oh, Colonel," he began, "you may want to check with Major Bordon. Maybe she said something to him. He' s the one that helped her in after she fell off that horse."

"Fall?" Tavington repeated, his tone conveying confusion. Then he became silent again. "Bordon," he murmured.

_That's it! It's him, thought William. Bordon helped her flee. He will tell me where she is. He'd better! He will disclose the information or I will drag it out of him! _

After a moment of thought and speculation, his temper snapped. _Again! Someone defied me again! I ordered him to hand her over. Then he interferes and hides her. _


	25. Chapter 25 Bordon Says His Peace

CHAPTER 25 Bordon Says His Peace 

Colonel Tavington stepped to the doorway of McKinnon House and eyed the outside grounds looking for his second in command. Within a minute, he spotted Bordon across the way chatting with a group of Dragoons. Without hesitation and reason, the Colonel bolted from the doorway and stalked across the lane to the yard. He charged into the middle of the group and pounced on his adjutant hard, knocking himself and the Major to the ground.

William landed on top of Miles and began pummeling him relentlessly. He got in a couple of punches to Bordon's face before the victim's reflexes kicked in and he could deflect the hits. Miles returned the punches from the bottom as best as he could.

The shocked Dragoons stomped into action after a moment of disbelief. It took three of them to pull their crazed commander off of the other officer. They restrained Tavington as he fought to get loose from them. Two other Dragoons helped Bordon up off the ground.

At about the same time, Colonel Banastre Tarleton had been meeting with some of the regular army personnel exchanging intelligence and strategies over at the side of the house under one of the canopies. This group of officers heard the commotion and looked up from their maps and paperwork.

Back in the Dragoon group, Bordon's thoughts raced about in his head as he guessed that someone must have told Tavington that he had helped Miss Stirhaley earlier. He assumed that to be the reason for the Colonel's attack.

"Let him go," hissed Bordon. He issued a challenge. "Come on at me Tav! Give it your best!" Bordon then drew his sword.

The other men let Colonel Tavington go. He steadied himself then drew his sword. Both men stood looking at each other, poised with their swords ready to strike. Both sets of eyes flashed determination. The group of men remained silent, now incredulous that their two leaders who supported each other, were now dueling. They backed up and gave them room.

Bordon and Tavington clashed, their swords clanking together as they did. They fenced hard and silent, each one determined to do the other one in. After a moment, they began exchanging words as the pace of the sword wielding slowed.

"Where is she?" Tavington asked angrily, not missing a beat with his weapon.

"Far away from you, I hope," cried Bordon as he took a swing with his sword.

"Where did she go!" Tavington snarled.

The group of officers with Colonel Tarleton could now hear the metal of the swords clinking together and could see movement across the yard. Ban could see that there was a fight in the middle of a bunch of Green Dragoons. He was immediately irritated at this. His cavalry of Dragoons had been in hot water lately with the superiors due to rowdiness and drunkenness. He rolled his eyes at the thought of his Dragoons doing this same old shit again. At least he assumed it was his brigade as he wasn't close enough to see what Dragoons were involved.

"Oh, Bloody Hell!" Ban shouted in annoyance. He stomped over to the fight. As he got closer he could see two Dragoons fighting within the middle of the pack.

About this time, Tavington got in a powerful swing and knocked Bordon's sword from his hands. Then he threw his own sword to one of the Dragoons and went after Miles again with his fists.

"You don't intimidate me," growled Bordon, "I'm not one of your rebel victims!"

Just then he ducked a punch thrown by Tavington.

"Or your fiancée," Bordon added, not being able to resist driving the point home. He dodged yet another hit.

"I'll kill you," Tavington hissed as he used sheer brute strength to pinion his second in command by the back against the side of the barn. He reached into his boot and pulled his dagger. He laid the sharp edge against Miles's neck.

Major Bordon showed no sign of any fear. He did not flinch.

"Go ahead and sink the bloody dagger into my throat………..if you can," Bordon replied to Tavington's threat.

Tavington froze as he suddenly felt the unmistakable cold metal circle of a gun barrel against his temple.

"Stand down, Colonel," a voice said with firmness. It was Ban, who had made his way into the middle of the fracas. When Tavington didn't move, Ban cocked the gun. "Stand down, Tav!" His voice was now an insistent command.

Tavington released Bordon and stepped backward. He watched Tarleton as he holstered his pistol. Banastre then turned to the crowd of men around them.

"Off with you all!," he ordered. "NOW!!"

The men quickly dispersed with looks of confusion on their faces. As they did, Ban called out to Tavington's legion third commander, "Captain Wentworth, you're in charge—temporarily—until your leaders return. And if they should happen to kill each other….then make that permanently!"

After a moment, Ban, William, and Miles were left alone near the barn.

"Well, well. BLOODY good show chaps," Ban scoffed, mockingly applauding the two. "The two commanding officers fighting each other in front of their men! Promotes unity and good will, doesn't it?" His sarcasm only thinly veiled his anger. He threw his arms up in disgust.

The two officers said nothing as Banastre continued scolding them. "You two know better than this! That fucking bunch of mine is in enough trouble for drinking and brawling. My arse will probably get the blame as well for_ this_ one! The generals will assume that my unit of ruffians spread their bad influence to your brigade! I can see it now: court martial for old Banastre!"

Colonel Tarleton continued his tirade. "Look, if you two want to fight, take it around back! The esprit de corps is low enough now as it is—"

"Stay out of this," William interrupted, menacingly hovering over Tarleton's small figure.

"THAT is not a problem," Banastre retorted, not at all intimidated by the other commander and standing his ground. "If you two wish to kill each other, DON'T do it in front of the men—it encourages bad behavior. And, if you should annihilate each other, I'm sure Lord Cornwallis will be very pleased, especially since you're already on his shit list!" He pointed to Tavington.

William rolled his eyes. "Get the Hell out of here, Ban!"

"Gladly!" Banastre retorted. As Colonel Tarleton began to walk away, he turned around. Walking backwards away from them, he called out an after thought,"Whatever it is, settle it like gentlemen."

Colonel Tavington shot a look of disgust at Tarleton. Banastre returned it with a smirk equally as disdainful, then walked away.

After an awkward silence, Tavington calmly confronted Bordon. "Where is she?" asked William.

"I don't know," Bordon answered honestly.

"You were with her when you came to the house, you must know something."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"You're lying," accused Tavington.

"No. I'm not," Bordon stated, raising his voice. "Do you really think she would pit the two of us against each other? She has higher standards than to come between friends."

There was another silence. William hated to admit to himself that Miles was right— she would not have come between them. Miles simply wished he was someplace else, instead of being interrogated by his friend and commander about such a sensitive subject.

"You helped her to the house," began William.

"Yes. I helped her into the house," Bordon repeated blandly.

"What's this about a fall," the Colonel asked.

Bordon was incensed, but tried hard to keep the feelings in. _Why_ _should I have to justify any excuses I make for someone else to Tavington, he questioned of himself_. He knew he'd better answer or he'd never hear the end of it.

"When we arrived at the house, a crowd met us at the door," Miles began. "I lied on the spot and said she'd fallen from her horse. Jesus Christ, William! I had to say something to cover up what really happened—to save you both! She was hurt and visibly looked like a mess. I had to help her into the house."

"She should have stayed where she was at," Tavington remarked. "She knew I was coming back for her."

"Exactly! That's why she left," Bordon retorted. "You scared her!"

Colonel Tavington scoffed and rolled his eyes. At that moment, his anger influenced everything still. In his selfish way, he thought that Miss Stirhaley and Major Bordon were both exaggerating the seriousness. Tavington could not see beyond himself or the present. He couldn't see the carnage he'd caused or the results. All he felt was that he was right and had to deal with the situation somehow. Weariness of battle coupled with his rage and need to control had dealt a mighty blow. He wasn't thinking straight, but his tired mind could not figure this out.

"Good God, Tav," cried Bordon, "She was so banged up and sore when you got through with her that she couldn't walk! I had to carry her to the stream."

"A man can not be responsible for his actions when consumed by anger!" Tavington shot back in a raised voice.

"Or consumed by power and control?" added Bordon in an accusatory tone.

"She defied me," shouted William. "She may as well of mocked me to the whole world."

"Did you have to be so rough on her?!" Bordon exclaimed.

"She had to be made to understand that _I_ have the final say—_now and in the future_," William justified. "Whether betrothed, married, or with our children, _my_ word is the law as head, or future head of a household!"

"Did you have to punish her _that_ way?" asked Bordon. "Did you have to humiliate her? Degrade her?"

Tavington did not dignify Bordon's questions with an answer. Instead, he turned on his heel to walk away. He was not going to stand there and be second guessed by a second in command—even if he was a close friend.

"I'm going to find her," Tavington simply stated, his voice back under control.

"Why? So you can beat the Holy Hell out of her," Bordon yelled back at him. "Punish her some more?"

"I exerted control!"William shouted back at Miles, the two men in each other's faces.

"Yes, I know," said Miles, in a subdued voice of disgust. "I could hear her screaming as you did."

Tavington's eyes rounded at Bordon's revelation. He was speechless at the implication that Miles made.

"Yeah, that's right," Miles began. "I know what happened."

William turned away from Miles momentarily. Then he turned back to face Major Bordon, his lips knitted tightly into a scowl, eyes narrowed, and his jaw set hard.

During the minute of silence between the two men, Bordon reached into his jacket breast pocket and pulled something out of it.

"There!" Bordon exclaimed, throwing the object at Tavington.

The Colonel caught it and said nothing. He studied the dainty object in his hand. It was Bordon's soiled handkerchief.

"What's this," he asked, haughtily as he studied the crimson stained cloth.

"Her virgin blood!" Bordon snarled. "You can keep it as a souvenir of your power and conquest!"

William stared at the blood soiled rag in his hand. Confusion momentarily overtook him as his emotions swirled. He was strangely fascinated at seeing the blood of Karen's innocence before his eyes, yet he was jealous that the blood, her blood, stained his best friend's cloth. The commander oddly felt betrayed, as if he were seeing her virtuous blood painted on the bed sheets of another man. He also felt a twinge of guilt for the first time since it had happened, only now just sinking in that he had really taken her virginity. And the manner in which he'd done it.

"A fine thing to rape your own fiancée and steal her virtue that way!" Bordon remarked sarcastically, but with serious undertones. He continued. "What an excellent first impression she must have now of the most intimate act of love! I'm positive she'll never want to share a bed with you. I'm doubly sure she'll never let any man touch her again!"

William continued to hold the handkerchief and stare blindly at it. He was still thinking as Miles droned on.

"You let the passion and heat of your anger blind you and overtake your reasoning," Major Bordon pointed out. "You never stopped to think what harm your actions might cause her!"

Bordon continued his tirade, not giving Tavington a word edgewise. "Who knows what mental scars she'll suffer or for how long: Fear, of you, all men, or all Mankind, and distrust of the same. Confusion, suspicion, among other things. Then there's the physical: her battered body, the discomfort of her loss of virginity, the pain of forced intercourse, the possibility you made her pregnant—"

"Yes! Pregnant!" Tavington exclaimed, cutting Miles off sharply. "Then she wouldn't be able to go home. She'd be a disgrace and cause a scandal. She'd have no choice but to stay here!"

"She couldn't stay here alone!" said Bordon.

"Exactly!" Colonel Tavington crowed.

Bordon narrowed his eyes at a smirking Tavington. Miles now understood why the incident occurred. His blood first boiled at the realization of how Tavington manipulated the situation to his favor. Then, he shuddered as it ran cold through his veins at the thought of how low his commander had sunk.

"So you see," continued the Colonel, "I had thought of the 'implications of my actions', how you put it."

At that moment, Bordon hated that man who stood before him—a man who had been one of his closest friends. Before this, he had only disliked some of Tavington's darker traits and had learned to tolerate them. But now, he truly despised William, thinking his manipulative mind as the defining factor of his commander. Major Bordon was unsure which was more reprehensible: the rape itself, or the hidden reasons and motives driving the rapist to the despicable act!

The hatred which had momentarily silenced Bordon lifted. He spoke, his voice low and accusing. "You bloody, sod awful—"

"Your next word may be your last," warned Tavington, his voice low and cold.

The two men stared at each other, each pair of blue eyes iced over with edge and suspicion as to what might happen or be said next. Each was a lion ready to pounce.

Tavington broke the heavy and charged silence hanging over them."Don't interfere," warned the Colonel.

"As long as I am near and see you physically mistreat her in any way," Bordon threatened, "I_ will_ come to her aid."

With that, he gathered his sword and jacket, and walked away, leaving Tavington alone.


	26. Chapter 26 Gone Drinking

CHAPTER 26 Gone Drinking 

Two weeks had passed since Karen had gone, and no word from her. The furor from the fight between Bordon and Tavington on the day she'd disappeared had dissipated to just a small bit of friction between the two old friends.

Though Tavington was the usual hard commander on the outside while on duty, inside he was falling apart. The officer took it hard with Karen now gone. He was not handling the situation well and like his late father before him, had taken to drinking.

It was 8:00am one particular morning when Colonel Banastre Tarleton and Major Miles Bordon entered the dank basement holding area of Fort Carolina. They had come to bail out some of Tarleton's unit, in jail for drunken and disorderly behavior in town the previous evening. The local Constable had them arrested and brought them all there. This had become a regular occurrence for Banastre, his group always in trouble for drinking and general rowdiness. A new dragoon had joined Banastre's regiment on their drinking spree.

As soon as Colonel Tarleton "rescued" his men from the drunk tank, they moved down to another set of cells to claim the last member of the group. They got to the heavy barred door of the cell and peered in. Colonel Tavington was seated on a lone cot in a cell by himself. His head was in his hands, his coat and vest were unbuttoned and hanging, his cravat missing. Tarleton let out a huge cackle of laughter at seeing his friend, someone who carried himself with such dignity and class, cooling his heels in a jail cell.

It seems that a group of Tarleton's bunch were leaving the estate the last evening to go to town to drink and hit a local brothel. Tavington, feeling down and depressed much lately over his situation—or lack of—with Karen, took them up on their offer to join them.

Once in town, the Dragoons got into a drinking contest in a local pub, with many of them becoming drunk, and were asked to leave the tavern by the barkeep when they became too rowdy. Colonel Tavington had been responsible for keeping the peace and herding the group of cavalrymen out.

They headed for the brothel afterward, with Tavington telling them that he was going to go on back to the estate for an early day the next morning. As they were getting ready to split up, the whole group was accosted by a bunch of the town men and teenage boys, those who were too old or young to be involved in the fighting. Seems that word had spread through the town that a group of British soldiers were drinking in their village and the locals did not want them there. Words were exchanged and a fist fighting brawl ensued between the Dragoons and the townsmen. The local constable came and had the Dragoons hauled back to Fort Carolina, where they were immediately jailed.

"What a sight!" jeered Ban.

"Yeah," Bordon agreed. "Who'd believe it? Tav in jail!"

Colonel Tavington looked up and shot them an irritated scowl. His eyes hurt from the light coming through the small window and his head pounded. Will's cheek had swelled a little and started to bruise from having taken a hard punch there.

"What do you suppose they're going to say back home in England?" Tarleton quipped.

Bordon acted as though he were holding a newspaper and reading from it. He feigned aloud the headlines, "Dragoon Commander Jailed For Drunken Brawl in Colonies! Famed Cavalry Leader Colonel William Tavington was jailed for drunken and disorderly conduct. When asked, the Dragoon leader, otherwise known as 'The Butcher', was reputed to have said, 'Bring on the Colonials-I'll fight them all—drunk or sober!' "

Tarleton chimed in. "And bring me another drink while I'm fighting please! You know, Tav, at least my men can fight while they're soused. If you're going to brawl on a regular basis, you're going to have to learn to fight better while you're drunk!"

"Fuck you both!" William snarled, hurling his pillow at their faces, which were pressed between the bars of the door.

Bordon and Tarleton broke out into fits of laughter. They had reasoned that if Tav drank more often as did Tarleton's group, he would build up a sort of 'immunity' and be able to fight better under the effects of liquor.

"You got off a couple of good punches, didn't you?" Bordon joked.

"He couldn't have thrown that many hits," remarked Ban. "If he'd have leveled them all, then he wouldn't be in here!" There was more laughter from Bordon and Tarleton.

In a moment, they heard the keys rattling as the guard came to open Tavington's cell. As the keys clanged noisily against the lock of the cell, Tavington rose to his feet and joined his colleagues at the door.

"A fine example you'll set for your men," kidded Tarleton.

"Not to mention setting new standards for officer's code of conduct," Bordon added.

Colonel Tavington sighed, frustrated with both of them already."Alright, alright!"

"Generals know about this yet?", asked Bordon, tone changing to serious.

"Yes. O'Hara was here last night," said William, "and he went through the roof! I can only imagine that Cornwallis will have my head over it!"

The three commanders strolled out the holding area to claim Tavington's horse and ride back to McKinnon House.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

A couple of weeks later, the Colonel seemed to flop into more of a tailspin. Bordon noticed this with much concern. Tavington had been drinking more, but not necessarily as a social outlet. He'd hit the bottle with much despair over missing Karen, having still not heard anything from her.

It was nearly midnight and no one had seen Colonel Tavington in hours. He was supposed to have met with Ban Tarleton for a strategy meeting earlier in the evening, but failed to show. This was unusual for him and Bordon began to worry. He could imagine the Colonel ambushed somewhere and unable to fight back well if he'd had too much alcohol.

After asking around the estate, the Major found a stable boy that had seen Tavington earlier that evening. He told Bordon that the Colonel had asked about nearby pubs. He told him about a tavern the next village over that was frequented by loyalists mostly.

Captain Wentworth was due to go off evening duty at Midnight, and Bordon had said that he would take the overnight duty this evening. Since Colonel Ban Tarleton's group was encamped there, he arranged for Ban to take over Tavington's unit temporarily that evening until Bordon returned with or without its commander. Then, Bordon set off on his horse to look for William.

Once in the village of Waringham, Miles Bordon quickly located the tavern the stable boy described and found Tavington's horse tied up outside of it. Major Bordon entered and found a drunken Tavington.

"Ah, Bordon," he called. "Good of you to join me. Just like the old days in London, eh?"

"Yes,…uh, Sir," he said, addressing him as a commander since civilians were nearby, "we have to go now."

"Now?" Tavington slurred.

"Yes. Now." Bordon stepped back from the table as Tavington tried to get up. As soon as he stood, he took a step and stumbled to the floor, eliciting laughter from the surrounding loyalists. Bordon knelt down and helped him up. He took William's arm over his shoulder securely and helped him toward the door.

"But I'm not done with my Ale yet," protested Tavington. Bordon reached over to the table, picked up the mug of half drunk Ale, and downed it quickly.

"Ah, good show, Bordon!" Tavington cheered, running his words together.

"Hey, Bordon," continued William, "Do you have any money because I'm out. And the only way they'll let me stay here is to keep buying them drinks." Indeed, Tavington had spent all his money that evening buying rounds of drinks for the locals in order to stay in their pub.

Bordon could tell that Tavington was incoherent. He hadn't understood that Bordon was there to fetch him out of the bar and back to the plantation.

"No, I don't have any money," replied Bordon. "Besides, you've got to get back and attend to your duties. The Dragoons are counting on you." Bordon was saying things off the top of his head just to placate the commander.

As he helped Tavington out of the pub, he stood for a moment, holding his friend up, trying to figure how to get him back to the estate. He thought William surely would fall off his horse—if he could even mount the beast!

"You're beginning to look like one of Ban's gang," said Bordon offhandedly. He was referring to Ban's unit of ruffians and drunks.

"Oh, no no," said Tavington, "They aren't 'butchers' like me—they're just drunkards!"

"This way," said Bordon as he led the Colonel to the horses.

"Bordon," William began as they walked, "I liked you so much better when you weren't so righteous and noble!" Drunkenness had a tight hold on Tavington's tongue.

"But, I've always been that way," Bordon corrected quietly.

"Well, then, I liked you better when you used to drink with me in the pubs," William stated, "when we were young officers!"

"Yes, sir, I know," Miles placated, supporting his commander as he walked.

"Bordon," Tavington continued, "I liked you better when Karen was around to tell me how good of an example you set for the men." Bordon looked oddly at Tavington. He was even more out of it now, his words making no sense.

"Sir, I have surmised that you liked me better a long time ago," Bordon announced with acceptance and patience. He figured that William would remember nothing that he said in the morning.

The ride home by horseback was precarious. It was dark and Tavington attempted to sing or talk the whole way there, scaring Bordon to death that someone concealed in the brush would recognize English accents and jump them. William nearly fell from his horse a couple of times, prompting his second in command to ride the two horses next to each other, while he reached over and steadied the Colonel, holding him up on the animal.

They arrived within an hour back at the estate. Major Bordon helped his commander off his horse carefully and guided him toward the house.

"I think I'm going to puke," said William. Bordon helped him over to the yard and put the Colonel down on his hands and knees, watching him as he threw up.

Ban Tarleton had seen Bordon and Tavington ride up and soon joined them. He immediately noticed the pitiful state of his fellow commander.

"He's in bad shape," Tarleton commented.

"Aye," Bordon agreed. "Could you give me a hand getting him up to his room, Ban?"

"Surely."

When Tavington was done heaving, Miles and Banastre picked him up, each taking an arm across a shoulder trying to help Tavington to walk. Together, Bordon and Tarleton carted their drunken friend into the house and up to his quarters.

They laid him out on his back on his bed. The two exchanged comments as they began stripping their friend down to his breeches.

"His drinking is getting worse by the day, isn't it," Ban quipped.

"Yeah. Has been ever since Karen left him," Bordon said. " He's not taking it well at all. And I always seem to fall into the middle of his problems."

"The room is spinning," Tavington groaned. "Command it to stop!"

"Maybe you should just kill it or burn it," said Bordon sarcastically.

"Yes," Tavington agreed.

Bordon went to the bureau, where he filled a glass of water and took it to the Colonel's bedside.

"Maybe it would be better if you bed down on the floor tonight," advised Bordon.

From his own past experiences with drinking, he didn't seem to get the wild spinning sensation one gets while in bed if laying on the floor.

"I don't think I can stand up to get out of bed," slurred Tavington.

"Perhaps you should just roll over and fall out of bed to get to the floor," Bordon recommended.

"He'll probably end up doing that anyway," Tarleton pointed out.

Miles and Ban went back to the bed and helped Tavington back up to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. The two watched their drunken friend as he sat quietly. He was shaky and looked sick. They hoped that sitting him up would stop those dreaded spinning and weaving sensations.

The two officers stepped away from the bed when they saw Tavington slump forward. They moved back to catch him, but saw that he wasn't falling. Instead, Tavington's head had dropped forward into his hands, his elbows on his knees. He hid his face in his hands as if in shame. They looked at each other with saucer eyes as they realized their friend was weeping. They had never seen him cry before, and this was something he rarely did, and, on those rare occasions, only in private.

"Oh, God!" he cried. "I've messed my life up!"

"Now, Tav..", Bordon and Tarleton began.

"I've messed hers up as well," Tavington sobbed. "How could I have hurt her? I worshipped her!"

Miles and Banastre were both stunned to see the hard, fearless leader dissolve into a pathetic, lump of tears. Deep down, they both knew he was human and had feelings, but the brave military man in him deemed this emotion a show of weakness and unfit to be shown by a commander. Yet, he let down now, in front of his friends. They knew the alcohol had much to do with it, for it exacerbated his sorrow and longing for Karen, as well as taking his guard down.

Bordon was understanding and tried to encourage and comfort his commander. "William, you've got to snap out of this. Pull yourself together. You're stronger than this and you will get through it."

"I love her! I miss her!" he wailed. "I am nothing without her!"

Ban tried to be understanding, but didn't quite possess the patience and humanitarian qualities that Miles Bordon had. He was unsettled by Tavington's tears, wishing he hadn't been there to witness that.

Tarleton, too, tried to rouse his friend and fellow dragoon back to his usual pillar of strength. "Tav, come on! Suck it up and take it like a man. You're going to have to find a more dignified way to bear the consequences."

William dropped backwards onto the bed, laying on his back with one arm thrown over his face. He wiped his eyes and cheeks with his hands. Then, he questioned Ban's last statement.

"Dignified way?" Tavington echoed.

"Yes," answered Banastre. "You can't do this all the time. It's not dignified for those of us in command to 'tie one on' every night because it's part of our job to bail those of our men out who do get soused! The blind can't lead the blind and the drunk can't lead the drunk-usually because one of them is passed out!"

Bordon shook his head and snickered at Tarleton's wry sense of humor. Leave it to Ban to have something funny to say in every situation.

After a moment, Tavington had composed himself and calmed down. But with the calm, that blasted spinning sensation came back. He felt flushed and sick.

Tavington pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. The room was blurry. "Help me up, boys, I need some air." He felt his two friends pull him up and out of bed, dragging him to the window. The instant the cool night air hit him in the warm room, he thought he felt better.

"I think I'm better now," Tavington said. "I think I can stand here on my own."

Ban and Miles walked away from him for a minute to talk and heard a loud thump on the floor. Both looked over to see William, passed out cold, face down, on the wooden floor.

"I knew that was a bad idea," Ban quipped.

Both men carried Tavington back to bed and deposited him there. They left him flat out on his bed to sleep it off.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

The next morning, Major Bordon went round to check on his commander. William was still in bed, half asleep, half awake, and nursing a terrible hangover. Bordon walked in and gave Tavington a cold, wet cloth to put over his forehead and eyes.

"Thank you," said Tavington. "What time is it?"

"About 8:00am," Bordon answered.

"Oh, shit," he said, propping himself up on his elbows, "I've got to get up." He tried hoisting himself up, but couldn't do it. All his energy was drained and his head was pounding and splitting. William groaned as he sank back into his pillows.

"No. Rest easy," stated Bordon. "I gave you the day off to recover. I'll take the unit today."

"Thanks," said a relieved Colonel.

Bordon showed himself to the door. He turned the knob, but paused at the door for a moment, his hand still resting on it.

"You know, William," he began, "It's fun to get soused with the lads sometimes, but, when you do it all the time, it gets old. And the headaches the next morning only get worse as we get on in age."

He had William's full attention, noticing that the Colonel had lifted the compress off his eyes and was looking straight at him.

"And, I know it hasn't been easy on you since Karen left," Bordon continued. "But, the alcohol hasn't made the situation any better. Drinking has not brought her back. And you can only kill so much pain with drink before you create more with it. I mean, think about it, William. Do you want to end up like your father? Piss away your job as an officer and possibly an opportunity to someday be a General?"

Bordon closed the door. William thought about Miles's last words before he left.

As always, his friend was right. William did not want to end up like his father and drink his life and esteem away. He would have to find another way to deal with the pain of losing Karen.


	27. Chapter 27 Bordon Pays A Visit

CHAPTER 27 Bordon Pays a Visit 

Miles Bordon finished his tea and toast in silence. The officer had joined the dragoons encamped on the estate this morning for breakfast. It was Colonel Tavington's standing request that the commanding officers lucky enough to be ensconced within the mansion forego some meals within the home's dining room in favor of eating with the men in the mess tent. Bordon had agreed with him that it would help with the men's morale. The affable aide-de-camp had something on his mind, but the others weren't distracted by his lack of participation in conversation.

He bid farewell to the men, stating he'd see them later tonight for patrol. Miles walked from the tent to a nearby tree which he leaned quietly against, still thinking. He shivered against the late autumn cold, wishing he had another cup of tea to sip on.

The officer was torn, having a decision to make. Since talking with Colonel Tavington weeks ago after one of the commanders drinking binges, he'd been mulling things over in his mind. William was remorseful for having assaulted Karen, and missed her terribly. Major Bordon had wondered if he should talk with Miss Stirhaley.

The major wondered where she was, and if she had resolved anything of the incident within herself. He'd also wonder if she'd forgiven William, and missed him as well. Miles didn't like William and Karen apart. The girl's presence seemed to have more of a calming effect on Tavington, with her sometimes actually being able to reign in some of his bad behavior. Karen's absence contributed to his commanders increasingly foul moods, already brought on by inability to capture the ghost and duty driven exhaustion. Miles had also tired of being the colonel's rescuer, tired of fishing him out of nearby pubs and brothels.

Major Bordon looked down at the ground, moving some dirt about with the toe of his boot. After going over all the details again in his head, he decided that it was ridiculous to continue mulling this over without action. It was apparent how William felt, but he needed to hear Karen's feelings in order to complete the picture. The only way to discern her position would be to visit her.

_Alright, that's decided. Now where is she at? _He didn't have to think long before he knew where to begin. Miles surmised that his own favorite servant and mistress, Miss Laura, would most likely know where she was. He straightened up and smiled as he moved toward the house.

After a few moments, he was inside and back at his room. He took his jacket off, tossing it over onto the wingback chair. Next, he peered outside his room looking for Laura in the hallway. The officer decided that if she didn't appear there with the next few moments, he'd seek her out on the estate.

The dragoon second in command left his door open as he looked out the window, searching for the girl out on the grounds. As he did, he heard footsteps coming up the stairway. He waited another moment to listen for the steps on the landing and in the hallway. His patience was rewarded when he looked into the hallway again and saw Laura there.

The officer took a giant step outside his door, stretched himself out as long as he could and caught the girl by the waist. He pulled her through the door, kicking it shut with his foot. Bordon put the girl to the wall gently, then moved both his hands to her face. Holding her head tenderly, he planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

Laura smiled sweetly up at him, startled, but happy for the surprise. Before she could say anything back, Bordon spoke up.

"I need to speak with Miss Stirhaley. Do you know where she is?"

In a flash across her mind, the pretty servant wondered if—and when—this day might come. She was surprised, though, that the officer, given that one of his main duties was area intelligence, hadn't already found out for himself. She was instantly confused. Did he already know and was testing her for some reason? Or was he using the easiest way to obtain his information? The girl wasn't sure how to answer, but could not hesitate any longer.

"No, I don't," she replied, trying to sound confident. She fidgeted, though she thought imperceptibly.

Her body's slight quiver and instant of hesitation was enough to tip Bordon, a master at interrogations, off. "Come now. I question people all the time. I can recognize deceit."

Though she was lying to him, she was immediately offended by his accusation. She would not have usually fibbed about anything to Bordon as she knew he had resources to find out the truth. Laura held out hope that Karen's hiding place was well concealed.

" I'm telling the truth!"

Bordon's eyes narrowed accusingly at her. His usual store of patience was being tested. Part of that was his own fault: he had wrongly assumed that she would immediately tell him everything. After all, they were lovers.

"No. You're not." He gave her a firm and condescending look.

The servant squirmed under that stern look of his. Nervous and not wanting to tell him, she tried to duck under his arms and get away from him, but he pinioned her shoulders squarely against the wall.

Realizing that she would not be able to win a standoff with the man, she broke. "Very well. I wasn't honest with you. But _you _told me not to tell anyone. You specifically asked me not to let you know anything so that you wouldn't have to lie to the Colonel."

" Yes—I remember and I appreciate your help in protecting her," he said, his demeanor calming just a tick. "But I need to talk with her now about him."

The girl looked down for an instant, then back up at the major, who seemed to tower over her. Her eyes were full of apology. " I can't tell you."

Miles rolled his eyes and let go a frustrated sigh. "You must," he urged.

The maid held her ground. "No. I promised her".

Bordon straightened, pushing himself back from Laura and the wall. He truly didn't think he'd have this much trouble getting the information. The commander let a moment of silence pass, trying to find the right words to say—something that would hit a chord with Laura and coerce her into telling him.

Laura eased herself away from him, moving closer to the door. She crossed her arms in front of her body, avoiding looking at her major and wishing he would stop asking her about Karen.

"We both know what happened to her that day. I helped her back to the house. You tended to her, as well. No one else was that close to her directly after the…unpleasantness."

" Yes, but I still can't say. I'm sorry." She shook her head apologetically.

" Don't you trust me?"

For the moment the servant was confused and not sure who or what to trust. She felt badly not to have given him the information. Now there was a twinge of guilt within her, as she could now not answer his question about trust.

Laura became quiet again. Rather than answering, she evaded further questioning. "I have to go." With that the girl rushed to the door, for once wanting to leave Bordon's room instead of staying within it.

Major Bordon moved quickly and in just two strides, caught the girl at the door. "Not so fast," he exclaimed as he pulled her back into the room.

Laura squirmed, trying to twist her wrists out of his strong hands. Usually comfortable within his presence, she was feeling more and more uneasy with each passing moment, hating that he had put her on the spot.

"Listen," he implored, " I understand that if I am ignorant of her whereabouts, then I can not lie to the Colonel. And, I admire your resistance to break your promise to her. Other than those grounds, is there any other reason why you won't divulge her arrangements?"

Laura had now become as frustrated with his insistence as he was with her obstinance. "How do I know that this isn't a test?," she demanded, putting her hands on her hips, ready to challenge him. "Maybe you're testing my loyalty? Maybe you're testing my ability to keep a secret? Well, I'm not one of your spies or prisoners!"

"LAURA!" he ordered, raising his voice to the level of a command.

She felt the pressure to say more, and was afraid she would say something that he wouldn't want to hear. " The Colonel is your commander _and_ your friend. How do I know that he didn't order you to find out about her?" She hated verbalizing her distrust within the situation.

Miles countered, " Because I would risk being insubordinate to protect her—I made that clear to him weeks ago."

" How am I to be assured that you haven't been moved by pity for your friend and lured to change allegiance?"

Bordon's tone and demeanor changed instantly." I _do_ feel sorrow for him—for them both," he answered her honestly. "The colonel is suffering. He loves her and misses her. But that is by his own hand of his own doing."

The officer's candor and honesty made the servant ease somewhat. "Maybe she doesn't want to be found," Laura pointed out in a soft voice.

" I can believe that. But I must see her now. There are things that she needs to be made aware of, and words that need to be said."

Laura had grown weary of the impromptu interrogation. She made a last ditch effort to coax him into obtaining the info somewhere else and not from her. Looking up at him, she pleaded her case, she hoped, a final time. "In our first moments together, you told me that part of your duty was to know all that happens in this area. You are a good intelligence officer. Please find out yourself where she is at so that I do not have to reveal it."

_Well, she is either hidden very well, or hiding in plain sight, for he had heard nor seen anything of her, he thought._ Bordon wasn't defeated yet but had to stop questioning Laura as it was getting him nowhere. He was quiet for an instance, thinking about changing tactics. The officer was bound and determined to get the information out of her somehow.

Laura broke the silence. "Please don't put me in the middle of this. Don't make me violate my promise to her," she begged, looking up at him with pleading and apologetic eyes. She touched his arm. " I _do_ have to go now."

The officer did not stop her as she walked to the door. He remained silent, watching her pensively.

She turned back to look at him before she left. "Please don't be upset with me."

" I'm not. I understand," he assured her, careful to act nonchalantly. He saw her ease and smile up at him, which confirmed that he had effectively faked his feelings on the subject, making her believe him no longer concerned about the matter.

As she turned to leave he caught her hand, pulling her back to him. Bordon wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her passionately. Laura responded in kind, and willingly went with him as he moved both their bodies toward his bed.

"Stay just a few more minutes," he whispered as he teased her neck.

"I shouldn't," she murmured halfheartedly, "they'll be looking for me."

Laura returned his teasing with kisses of her own. She thought she should act as though she had to leave, knowing he'd continue seducing her.

Miles continued to kiss and tease his mistress as he pushed her gently onto her back on his bed. When he felt her ease, he moved down her relaxed body. Much to her delight, he pushed her skirt up just over her hips, exposing her crotch.

"Mmmmmm…..", she sighed as she closed her eyes. Delighted at what was imminent, she relaxed even further, her body sinking back into the bed in anticipation of his next action.

"Ah…..", she cooed as his mouth covered her feminity. Her breaths became ragged and her stomach tensed as his tongue moved against her.

She arched her back, wanting to move more of herself into his mouth. As she relaxed again, she felt her lover's actions cease.

"Where is she," Bordon asked, not looking at Laura.

"Darling, I can't say," she replied, trying to hold on to her resolve. Her hands found his head. She stroked his hair and gently pushed his head back into her.

Miles continued his sensual assault on her, tracing the folds of her womanhood with his tongue. Slow circular movements drew her ever closer to the edge.

After another moment, Bordon stopped again, raising his head to look up at Laura. "Tell me where she is, darling?"

The girl refused again and urged him on. Again, Bordon buried his head and flicked his tongue between her legs

Another moment of his oral teasing passed. As the girl became more aroused, her body stiffened. And, Bordon stopped yet again.

Laura, frustrated and needing release, begged him to continue. "Miles…please don't stop. I'm so close."

"You know what I want," he teased, knowing she was melting to him.

"Oh…..Miles….I can't say…." She whispered in a frustrated voice.

Major Bordon's face disappeared again between her legs, continuing his exquisite torture on her being. He quickened his pace, urging the girl closer to her pleasure.

The officer continued the game of starting and stopping, drawing frustrated protests from his 'victim'. The hardened bud between Laura's legs was beginning to become extra sensitive and almost sore from his teasing.

After a few more moments, he could tell that he was driving her into a frenzy. The servant's body tensed as her breathing became deeper and more irregular. She was starting to writhe, moving her own body to meet his tongue's actions as if trying to hurry the release. Knowing her actions in bed, he knew she was near orgasm by her moans.

Just as Laura drew in a deep breath and held it, she felt him stop. Her eyes flew open, thoroughly frustrated and needing her release. She lifted her head, looking down at her darling major between her legs.

Her startled look was met with Bordon smirking at her, an evil grin on his face. The major was pleased with himself as he noticed the alarmed look on her face; the glassy glaze of wanton in her eyes.

"Miles…..PLEASE," she begged, just wanting her pleasure.

"I will when you tell me," he answered in his deep voice, laced with lust.

Her head dropped back into the pillow in defeat. "She's in the cabin on my family's farm," Laura blurted out reluctantly yet selfishly, wanting the man to finish. The girl closed her eyes, wanting to feel his mouth on her womanhood again.

Bordon smiled, laughing inside at his triumph. "That's a good girl," he commented as he lowered his head, ready to complete the task at hand.

The officer built her up again slowly. Her engorged pearl was painfully swollen, needing release. She winced aloud in pain and pleasure as he moved his tongue over it, applying pressure against it. Laura threw her arm over her mouth, muffling her own cries of passion as he brought on her completion.

Just after that, the major crawled quickly back up her body, pushing his black breeches down as he did. Once even with her, he drove his hardness into the still breathless girl with a jovial thrust.

Laura groaned as he sank his erection into her, her womanhood sore and sensitive still. The girl was still recovering from her own pleasure as her lover pounded his hardness in and out of her.

Bordon thrust away happily, glad to have obtained the information. Interrogations weren't always this pleasurable.

"Do you interrogate all your female prisoners this way?" She asked breathlessly.

Bordon smiled then chuckled at her innocence. He brushed a trail of kisses from her flushed cheeks to her lips. As he did, he thought of his commanders oft said words: "Doing one's duty is an ugly business. But just occasionally, it can be a real pleasure."

The thought of those words coupled with the triumph of breaking his mistress' resolve made him snicker again.

The officer put his lips to her ear, answering her question in a murmur. "No, darling. That's Colonel Tarleton's specialty."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Karen could stay in bed no longer in the small little cabin. She couldn't stand being confined and had wanted to go outside. Once out there, despite the chill, she found herself still weak. She felt dizzy and thought she was going to faint.

Making it back into the cabin, Karen's knees became weak and finally gave out. Her hands caught notches in the logs of the wall on the way down, helping to ease herself down gently to the floor. Once there, she was flushed and hot one moment, with waves of nausea hitting her the next. She reached out in front of her to the side of the bed and slid the chamber pot back over to where she was. After a moment, she vomited.

Feeling spent and repulsed after she had done so, she rested back against the wall and closed her eyes. _Oh, God, I wish I wasn't here, she thought. I wish this sickness would pass! _

There was a knock at the door. Karen opened her eyes slowly. She thought it was probably one of Laura's kin checking in on her as they did daily.

"It's alright," she called weakly, "You can come in!"

She was very surprised and delighted to see Major Bordon standing at the door.

"Miles! You've found me. I would hug you, but I am too sick to get up off the floor." She smiled at him.

"Stay there," Miles said cheerfully, "I'll join you!" He stepped in and glanced quickly around the small cabin as he took his riding gloves off and shoved them into his Dragoon helmet, placing it on the little table. Karen laughed at his offer to sit on the floor.

"Don't be angry at your protector," Bordon requested as he seated himself next to her. "I nearly had to drag the info out of Laura to find you!"

"Oh, it's alright," said Karen. "I gave her permission to tell only you—if you asked. I assured her that you could be trusted. But, I think she already knew that."

"I can be trusted?" He asked comically. This elicited a grin from her.

"Yes!"

Bordon leaned over and kissed her playfully on the cheek. "Everyone at the estate misses you! Questions abound as to where you went and why you—"

He was interrupted by Karen turning nearly green. She leaned over and threw up again into the pot.

The Major, seeing how sick she was, jumped to his feet, picked up a clean linen, and disappeared outside. He came back in a moment to catch her leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed, clearly exhausted. She groaned.

Bordon knelt down and dabbed her face and mouth with the newly wetted cloth. Then he sat down in front of her, staying quiet for a moment, concerned about her.

Karen sighed and opened her eyes. She looked straight at Bordon. "In a few months, I'll be having William's child."

Bordon, having thought that might happen after what William had done to her, was still somewhat surprised. It was just to hear her actually say it.

He sighed. "What will you do?"

"I don't know," she replied. "William has me exactly where he wants me—unmarried and pregnant. He had warned me that there wouldn't be much I could do about it."

"Do your parents know?"

"Not yet, but I'll have to tell them soon."

"Will they help you," Bordon queried.

"I don't know," answered Karen. "I just know that I can't go home to England now. It will disgrace them. I can't do that to my family!"

Miles felt deeply pained for her. He would marry her himself and take care of her if Tavington wasn't his friend.

Karen continued. "It's just as he said. And, My God, he was so…ominous… when he said it! He made it so that I wouldn't be able to leave. I'll have to stay hidden, or go back and marry him."

"Which?" Miles asked.

"Oh, I haven't made up my mind yet. I am still thinking things through. It is so difficult." She heaved a sigh then went on. "I'm inclined to stay here and deal with it alone."

"That will be very hard," Miles pointed out.

"Yes, I suspect it well," replied Karen. "But, right now, I don't think I can go back to him. I just don't know what he will do. He is so unpredictable these days. After what he did, I can't trust him. I want us to be a proper family, but…." Her voice trailed off.

Both sat quietly for a moment, each contemplating the situation. Then she spoke again. "I love him still and miss him so very much, but, Miles…I just…."

Karen couldn't seem to find the words to convey her feelings, for she was so mixed up inside. She wanted to forgive William, but felt she needed to stand up for herself to him. She just wanted to do the right thing, whatever that was.

"Well, I can tell you that he is beside himself with grief," remarked Major Bordon. "He misses you so. And, he is remorseful for what he did—to the point of tears."

"Tears?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes," answered Bordon. "We have talked in confidence about it and he wishes to right the wrong. He has not done well with this business. He is more upset and bitter than ever, venting his anger on the Dragoons and the rebels. And, he has been drinking a lot. Banastre and I bailed him out of jail the other day after a bar brawl. I had to retrieve him from a tavern the other night. He was in sorry shape. William was so hung over the next day that he couldn't get out of bed!"

"Oh no," she fretted. Bordon could tell the depth of her lingering feelings for Tavington just by her concern.

"It takes a lot for him not to attend to his duty," she remarked. "Oh, God! It's all my fault! Maybe I shouldn't have left him."

"No. It's his fault," Bordon corrected. "He did this to himself through his own actions. Ban told him he should own up to the consequences and take it like a man."

"I should go back to him," she cried. Worry clouded her features.

"No. Don't be so hasty," urged Miles. "Give him some more time to think about it and deal with it. Make him come to you with a solution."

She looked at the Major and listened intently.

"Although he realizes what he has done, the time to think will allow him to decide what is truly important, and how to approach you. It will help him decide the best way to amend things between you, and win back your trust. This will remind him that, while he can lead and rule, he will not always be able to control everything all the time. He will have to learn how to let go of what he can't control. He must realize that he is going to have to change some bad habits, if he can, on his own. It must come out of his free will. You can't make another human change things they have no desire to change."

Bordon paused for a moment to let his words sink in, then continued. "If he changes or amends things on his own, then he truly wanted to do it, so it will be sincere and long lasting. While rare, it does happen." He smiled and looked hopeful.

Karen smiled at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you are wise beyond your years?"

Miles chuckled and smiled back.

"Oh, Miles," she lamented, "I miss the way things were back in England years ago. Everything was much simpler then." She paused for a moment and then added, "He smiled more when we were younger."

Bordon laughed. "It's funny you say that, because I have said that very same thing before, and William even admits it!"

"I know!" she exclaimed, smiling. The two shared a laugh, recalling William's own admission of being more 'happy-go-lucky' back then.

"But, once over here, things changed," Karen stated, the mood turning somber once again. "He received his own unit, more responsibilities, not to mention a war! And the hours he keeps are horrible!"

"Yes," Miles agreed. "William is a born leader, but battle, and maybe life, have hardened him, as it does some people. He just shows it worse than most. Other men accept it with grace. William fights it all the time and wants to control it!"

Major Bordon excused himself and went outside to the well. He drew a cool glass of water for himself and one for Miss Stirhaley, then trotted back into the cabin. As they shared their drinks, the conversation turned serious.

"Miles, tell me what to do," she pleaded, thoroughly confused over the issues at hand.

"That I can't do. You must decide and so must William," he advised. "I hate to think of a child without a father. But, if the two of you should get back together, I would want it to be a good life for the three of you. And, while I get so put out with William sometimes, he is still a close friend, and, it makes me upset to see him in pain, especially by his own hand. Just try to go the right thing and then stick by it—and have no regrets!"


	28. Chapter 28 A Letter And A Request

CHAPTER 28 A Letter And A Request

(Chapter 28 thru Chapter 33 take place in January 1781)

_As our story continues, it is now January 1781….. _

Colonel Tavington entered the house which seemed empty. He went to the liquor cabinet in the McKinnon's drawing room to pour a glass of wine to take to his desk, wanting something to drink while he did paperwork. There were no glasses to be found. He surmised that they had all just been cleaned and hadn't been brought back in yet. The officer called for a servant and looked for one at the same time. They were all busy in different parts of the house and didn't hear him. So, rather than wait, he went into the large pantry and storage area to look for a glass himself.

He quickly spotted some clean glasses in a hutch and took one. As he turned swiftly to leave, his sword, which he was still wearing belted around his uniform's waist, flew out to the side of him, dragging some books and papers off a low shelf and causing a mess on the floor.

"Oh, blast!" he cursed. William bent down to pick the things up and put them back on the shelf. As he replaced them, he noticed the writing on an envelope that he retrieved. He recognized the writing immediately as Karen's. He eyed it for a moment and thought about it.

Tavington quickly shoveled the rest of the books and papers back onto the shelf. The last thing he picked up was a basket that these things had been in. As he scooped the things into the basket, he noticed the name 'Laura' on the handle. He recalled seeing the servant carrying the basket sometimes when leaving the estate. Then, William realized that since the letter was in her belongings, that she must know where Karen is.

His heart leapt for joy thinking this could lead him to his fiancée. He called for Laura just as another servant entered the area from outside the house. She informed him that Laura was off the property, having been sent to town with Mrs. McKinnon and didn't know when they'd be back. She then apologized for the fact that there were no clean glasses. The servant hadn't noticed the letter in his hand.

The Colonel tucked the letter into his coat pocket and left hurriedly. He went upstairs to his room, closed the door, and sat down on his bed. There, without thinking twice and having no qualms about reading someone else's mail, he opened the envelope and read the letter inside.

_10 January, 1781 _

_Dear Mother and Father, _

_I hope this letter finds you both well. I am still in hiding from the rebels. Laura and her family have been very good to me and taken care of me. _

_Now, I must confess something to you. My safety is not the only reason I am hiding. A few weeks back, William and I had a terrible row, and I fled from him as well. I have not seen or communicated with him in any way since then. I still love him, but I don't know if I can take him back or not. But, that is not the worst of it, I am afraid. _

_William and I, after 5 years of betrothal, gave in to our desires in a moment of weakness one night. Now, it is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that I am carrying his child. I assure you that no one here knows, and I will continue to stay isolated, so as not to embarrass the family. I can't promise you at this time that William and I will reconcile, marry, and make this situation proper. _

_I know you must be hurt deeply now that you know and it breaks my heart to have to tell you. I hope and pray that you may forgive me. If you disown me, I will understand. But, I hope that you won't because I love you all so very much! _

_Oh, can you ever forgive me? _

_Lovingly, _

_Karen _

William jumped to his feet. He felt as though a heavy load had been lifted off his shoulders. He was relieved to know that she was okay and happy to finally hear something from her, albeit something to someone else. His heart raced as he felt so very close to finding her and finally seeing her again. The colonel could hardly contain his excitement and his face was lit up with a smile as he ran from his room to find Bordon.

Karen had not been totally honest with her parents in her letter. She did not disclose her rape to them, out of embarrassment to herself. And, strangely, to shield William from embarrassment over his actions. She had thought it best just to say that they mutually yielded to their longings. The hurt she was going to cause them over this was bad enough without having to subject them to the scandal of a rape.

Outside, Colonel Tavington found Major Bordon talking with a couple of the Redcoat enlisted men near a fencerow over looking a pasture. Bordon had seen William stalking intently across the ground toward him. Miles also noted the papers and an envelope in Tavington's hand and knew immediately that something was up. He surmised it as Dragoon business as soon as Tavington asked the Redcoats to leave them.

Bordon could see that Tavington had something very important to tell. Indeed, William's enthusiasm was plain, which was unusual for him. This was a departure from his usual controlled demeanor of firm coldness. Bordon grew instantly curious over what he had to share.

Colonel Tavington spoke up as soon as the enlisted men were out of earshot. "I've found her, Bordon!," exclaimed William as he held up the letter. "I know where she is!"

"Oh?"

A sudden panic came over Bordon, which he hid. He didn't want Tavington to know that he knew where she was. Miles wondered how the Colonel had found out. He asked himself if Laura had given up her silence. He also questioned whether or not the Colonel had figured it out and had then forced it out of the servant.

"How do you know," asked Bordon, feigning ignorance.

"This letter," he said, holding it up again. "I stumbled across it—innocently, I swear, in the belongings of the servant girl, Laura. I recognized the writing as Karen's and took the letter. I read it and I know that she is staying out at that Loyalist's family's farm."

Bordon said nothing and turned away. He wasn't sure if William knowing her whereabouts was such a good thing. William was so euphoric about finding his lost fiancée that he seemed not to notice his aide-de-camp's queer reactions.

"Would you mind taking over command of the Dragoons for a few days?" he asked Bordon.

"No. Why?" asked Bordon, suspecting he knew what the answer would be.

"I'm going now to see O'Hara and ask him for a few days furlough," stated Tavington. "I'm going to go to her and put things right between us!"

Miles wasn't sure if he should dissuade his friend from going to Karen or encourage him to. After all, he'd seen Miss Stirhaley and knew the state of mind she was in. The major now knew how both of them felt about the situation: Tavington wanted to reconcile but Karen still hadn't made up her mind.

There was silence between them. Bordon listened to the wind rustling over the tops of the winter Wheat crop on the other side of the fence, struggling for something to say and the manner in which to say it.

After a moment, the Major broke the silence. "Are you sure that is such a good idea, Colonel?"

"Of course it is!" Tavington answered. "I miss her. I want her back!"

"Well, sir," Bordon began, switching back to the position of a subordinate officer, "don't you think it might be better to let her come to you first?"

"What?"

"What I mean is," continued Miles, "just send her a message first, and see how she responds to it."

"No. She might run again," Tavington snapped. "No. It's better for me just to go round and see her."

"But she ran because she was afraid," Bordon stated.

"Well, she has nothing to fear from me now," assured William. "I'll never hurt her again."

Major Bordon wasn't so sure about this. He imagined Tavington going to the door of her little cabin with Karen locking him out and refusing to speak with him. Miles could then see the situation escalate from there, with Tav's temper getting the best of him again. In his mind, he saw Tavington's hurt pride moving him to drag her forcibly back to the estate.

"But that's just it!" the major interjected. "She is hiding because she fears you! Wouldn't it be better to let her come back to you on her own, when she isn't frightened anymore?"

"I don't want to wait anymore! I want her now!"

"You violated her trust," Bordon accused. "She may never give that to you again."

"She trusts me," Tavington deluded himself

"No, sir. Obviously she doesn't," disagreed Bordon, "Or else she wouldn't be hiding. You will have to gain her trust back."

"Look, there are other issues pressing," argued Tavington. "I can't wait for her to decide things. Besides, time is of the essence now."

Bordon looked at him with raised eyebrows, not sure what his commander and friend meant.

"She's carrying my child," William announced with a mixture of haughty satisfaction and slight embarrassment at having disclosed something personal. Of course, Bordon already knew of her pregnancy.

"Isn't that what you intended!" Bordon hissed smartly. "You gave her a child to slake your own hurt pride and anger, for the dear price of her innocence!"

"Yes…No…..I don't know," answered a flustered Tavington. "No, I should not have done it, but there were other factors at play that day. That is no longer the matter at hand. I do not want her to be left with a bastard and want to do the responsible thing….and, I love her and want to be there for her and my child."

"You're wrong, Tav," Miles shot back in a raised voice, "You raped her in an attempt to control and intimidate her. And, yes, you controlled her for the moment as you did that, but you yourself were out of control to have done something that abominable! And that is the whole thing. You always want to command everything, but there was no restraint over yourself!"

"You're insubordinate!" Colonel Tavington yelled.

"I'm not talking as a Dragoon," Miles shouted back, "I'm speaking as your friend."

There was a strained silence between them for an instant as they stared at each other with narrowed eyes. Bordon shattered the quiet.

"Your pride, anger, and lack of self restraint robs you of your best qualities and clouds your judgment," Bordon exclaimed.

William was quiet for a moment as Bordon's truthful opinion burrowed its way into his mind. He knew that his friend was right. The commander had realized that in his own self examination since Karen had been gone.

Tavington let down and sighed. "You're right, Miles," he relented, "as much as I hate to admit it."

William walked to the fence and paused a moment to look out on the horizon. Then he turned back to his adjutant.

"But, I am still responsible," began Tavington, "for my actions, for what they have caused, and for my child's future. And, I truly wish to mend things between us. I just…..I…..I love her and miss her terribly. I want us to be a family."

Bordon was impressed, at least momentarily. He could tell that William was sincere in his longings. And, he hoped that his friend, now that he realized his errors, could make things right, and change—or at least curb—some of his bad habits. But, Miles Bordon was still apprehensive about Tavington just showing up at Miss Stirhaley's cabin unexpected to beg forgiveness.

"Please try to stay in control of yourself when you find her," Bordon pleaded. "If you scare her a second time, there may not be another chance for you."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Within an hour of his conversation with Miles Bordon, Colonel Tavington was entering the office of Brigadier General Charles O'Hara at Fort Carolina. William was confident his request for time off would be honored. He had served well, and in his opinion, that was reason enough.

Tavington rapped at the open door to O'Hara's office. The general looked up from his desk to see who was at the door.

"Come in," he requested.

William walked in, stood before the desk and genuflected his head slightly to the General.

"Colonel," O'Hara greeted. "How goes it?"

"General O'Hara," William began, "I'd like to request furlough for myself."

"For how long?"

"Two to three days or so," answered Tavington.

"Beginning when," asked the General.

"Tomorrow if possible."

"Out of the question," replied O'Hara with no hesitation.

"May I ask why, sir?" Colonel Tavington kept his dismay in check.

"We are readying for a battle that could be decisive, and we will need you!"

"Thank you, sir," William answered only half graciously, "but Bordon is more than capable of leading. The Dragoons will be in good hands."

"Yes, I know they would be, Colonel," O'Hara agreed, "but you're valuable and still needed."

Tavington sucked up his disappointment and let out a light sigh. General O'Hara was quiet as he did, studying the Colonel's actions. Tavington loved duty and never asked for furlough, which was puzzling.

"Why do you want furlough, if I might ask?" O'Hara was reasonable and would consider everything if he knew the whole story.

"Personal reasons," answered William.

"Personal," O'Hara repeated William's answer. "You mean, to find Miss Stirhaley?"

Tavington, though stunned and amazed that O'Hara knew, tried hard not to show any emotion, lest he give satisfaction to his superior. Nonetheless, he bristled enough at the shocking revelation that O'Hara noticed he had struck a nerve.

Though the Colonel said nothing, O'Hara could tell that he was uncomfortable.

The General continued. "Yes, Colonel Tavington, we know that she left. Or rather, that she ran away from you."

"General O'Hara, I—"

"We were made aware of a certain incident," O'Hara interrupted, "that happened between the two of you."

Tavington's mouth dropped open. An instant later he let out an audible sigh, then drew his mouth together tightly. In the ensuing silence, William went into a slow burn, wondering who had snitched on him to his superiors.

O'Hara could tell Tavington was angry and wondering who had squealed on him. Answering the dragoon's question before he could ask, O'Hara advised, "Before you lose that infamous temper of yours, Colonel, you needn't worry. Your loyal men did not betray you." General O'Hara got up and walked around to the front of his desk, facing Tavington.

He continued. "A coach driver made a report to us because he felt that the detaining of his carriage was not a….. 'routine'…..stop."

Tavington heaved a heavy sigh. He was preparing himself for what he thought was another sure reprimand.

"He said there was no search of the coach or questioning of the driver or passengers. But he was mostly worried because one of his passengers, a woman, seemed very afraid and tried to run," O'Hara continued. "He states that your men chased her into the woods by your order and took her forcibly."

William alternated between looking straight into the General's eyes, and down. He bit down on his tongue, knowing he might say something he'd later regret.

"The coachman said that, at first, he thought the lady may have been a spy that was just found and captured," said O'Hara, "but, he didn't think an operative would call that much attention toherself by running, which can be construed as an obvious reaction to guilt. He was worried mainly because the woman was so genuinely frightened. He wanted to protest and help, but says your men held guns on he and his passengers until the lot of you left with her. The whole thing was very out of the ordinary to him."

Tavington still said nothing.

"Naturally, after hearing all this from him first, and not getting a report from you about the incident, we were a bit confused as to what actually occurred. Thinking you may have captured a spy, but not having that information from you, we questioned your men. I assure you, they did not want to give you up, but we told them in no uncertain terms that they were to answer truthfully and assured them that there would be no retribution from you."

Tavington could keep quiet no longer. "Pardon me, General. You are always so quick to reprimand everything I do. Why wasn't I called on this?"

"Because after investigating, we determined it was too personally sensitive to call you upon," answered O'Hara. "Still, your actions that day were beyond the scope of that of an officer's and inexcusable."

"And this is why I can't have furlough," Tavington shot back raising his eyebrows, "because I acted with conduct unbecoming an officer?"

"No," General O'Hara answered firmly, "I happen to like Miss Stirhaley very much and I know that she adores you. It would help repair the image of you as an officer and representative of this army's cavalry division if you would put things right between the two of you. You may have furlough, but after this next battle sometime in the next couple of weeks."

Tavington was only half relieved inside. He was very pleased to have furlough, but disappointed to have to wait for it, therefore putting off the happy reunion he might have with Karen that he deeply longed for.

"Where will the battle be," asked Tavington, going back into his professional officer and battle strategy mode.

"Upcountry," O'Hara replied. "Intelligence tells us that the rebels are active and moving in that area. In fact, you can go ahead and gather your men and head out as soon as feasible tonight or tomorrow." The general handed Tavington a rolled up map of the area.

"Very well," answered William. "Thank you, sir." He bowed his head quickly in salute to his General, turned sharply, and left the office.

This was fine and dandy with Tavington. He slipped his helmet on and thought that the faster they get upcountry, the quicker the battle will be over, and that would bring him back home to his Karen sooner.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

When Tavington returned that evening to the McKinnon plantation, he gave the men orders to be packed and ready to move out the next morning. He could only tell his soldiers that they would be gone several days.

Miles Bordon spent his last night before moving to the back country with his mistress, Laura. The officer wondered when he would return and hoped that the girl would be waiting for him with open arms in the solace of his bed.

"Oh, Laura," he moaned in an airy voice as he admired the pretty servant moving on top of him. She was unaware that the man studied her slender curves as she pumped away upon his supine body.

Bordon seemed mesmerized, unable to stop gazing at the beauty as she moved up and down on his erection. It was something about the full moonlight coming through the window and how it illuminated her long, blonde curls. Miles was captivated, as well, by how the girl moved and swerved astride him, varying her speed, trying to find the right friction point for both of them.

Laura had come to enjoy straddling her major in their bedroom trysts. She felt him so much more deeply inside her in this position.

The servant loved _any_ moment she had in his presence—stolen or innocent. The servant held out hope that their "arrangement" would blossom into something more, for she had fallen in love with the officer.

Bordon slid his hands under her hiked up skirt to caress her thighs and hips. He loved feeling them as she moved upon him.

The girl leaned forward, grabbing the headboard above Bordon to steady herself as she shifted her position. This allowed her round breasts to fall just above the officer's face. Bordon raised up, supporting himself on his elbows, and began to nuzzle her chest. The officer sucked aggressively on her nipples, changing them from a soft pink into dark ruby taut peaks.

"Oh….oh…" she moaned as her body lent itself to her lust. She let go of the headboard and sat up straight again. Her blonde tresses fell wildly over her bare shoulders and back. Her torso was naked as her dress bodice and sleeves were pooled at her waist, allowing Miles access to her upper body.

The major pushed himself up to a sitting position, wanting to be against her naked body. He supported himself with his left hand on the bed and his right hand kneaded her left breast. Bordon's mouth met hers in a deep kiss as she continued to ride him. His mouth moved over her shoulder, neck, and ear, leaving a trail of kisses.

Major Bordon threaded the fingers of his right hand into her hair, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He kissed her jaw line, his lips working their way softly to her ear.

"Say my name," he begged her in a whisper.

"Miles," she answered back in an airy voice full of ecstasy.

The man was very near to climax and could feel that she was as well. With his hand still holding her face as her pace quickened atop him, he leaned back to look at her.

"Look at me," he requested in a low, husky voice permeated with lust. The servant opened her eyes and gazed with glassy passion into his blue eyes. "Again…..say my name again," he asked of her.

The girl, nearly over taken with passion, instinctively closed her eyes and opened her mouth to say his name, but was interrupted before she could with his impassioned and lusty protest. "No…look into my eyes as you do," he pleaded, close to his climax.

Both of their breathing became gazed into his eyes helplessly, near the point of no return.

"Say my name….keep looking into my eyes," Miles struggled to say, nearly out of breath.

This was all that was needed to send her over the top. "Miles…oh Miles…"she gasped in passion as she came.

He came forcefully an instant after she did, the sound of her voice calling his name in euphoria was all he needed. The two had wrapped their arms tightly about each other at the point of their release. The officer loved hearing her call his name as he came, albeit in a low voice lest they rouse the rest of the household.

Miles reclined back onto his bed bringing her with him, still wrapped in his arms. They laid together silently for a few moments.

"When will you be back," Laura asked of her lover in a whisper.

"The colonel could only say we'd be gone for a few days," replied Bordon.

"I'll miss you," the pretty servant murmured.

Bordon said nothing back, instead kissing the girl's head and hair lovingly.

She looked over at his pocket watch lying on the nightstand. The girl realized to her dismay that in a few minutes her brother, a stable boy there, would be finished with his duties and ready to leave with her for home.

Bordon kissed and nuzzled playfully at her neck as she picked up the watch, checking it again and hoping she had read it wrong in the low light. "I need to go. David will be waiting for me."

"Just a few more minutes," he coaxed in a low voice.

"I wish I could, but I can't," she replied woefully. "If I'm late, he'll ask questions."

Miles relented, sitting up on the side of the bed as he watched her pull her dress bodice back up. She crossed the room to the mirror, where she quickly pulled her hair back up. The officer pulled his breeches on and moved up behind the girl, slipping his arms around her waist. He nibbled at her fingers playfully as she finished tucking her hair in. Laura laughed at his playfulness.

Major Bordon turned his lover around to face him. "You missed a couple of buttons," he stated with a smile, as he observed the hasty disarray of her dress. She smiled as his strong fingers fastened the remaining buttons. Before he could finish the task as hand, she couldn't resist sliding her hands up his bare belly and chest, hardened with muscle but scarred with old battle wounds. Laura moved her hands up and over his strong shoulders, muscular from years of riding and wielding a sword. The servant kissed him slowly, letting his tongue move freely between her sensuous lips. She wove her fingers into his long, strawberry blonde hair, let down from the usually tight braid he wore.

After a moment of sensual kisses, they reluctantly pulled away from each other, both knowing she could stay no longer. Laura looked up at him, giving him a quick smile, then an apologetic look, before she turned to head to the door.

As she started toward the door, Bordon pulled out what sovereigns he had left in the pocket of his breeches. He reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Wait," he bade. "Here," he said as he held the silver out for her.

Laura hesitated, not wanting the money. The girl had put herself into denial, no longer wanting to acknowledge that she was no more than his paid mistress—Bordon's whore.

"Major please keep your money," she requested. Laura looked up at him, watching his face twist questioningly at her actions after taking his money for months.

"Our family is fine now," she lied. "We don't need your money anymore."

Bordon could tell she was lying. He also knew from area intelligence that her farm struggled even harder now recently, after having two slaves taken and pressed into service for General Cornwallis.

Laura recognized from the look in his eyes that she had been caught in a lie. The girl struggled vainly to give another reason why he should no longer pay her. Her mind went blank as his blue eyes tore into her.

"Please," she begged in a panic, "I can't accept your money anymore."

Bordon said nothing as he tried to press the coins into her hand. She clenched her fist hard, not letting him do it. As she broke away from him she cried, "I don't want it!"

The officer had coaxed himself into his own world of denial over Laura. He could tell that the conversation was leading him into feared territory. Miles swallowed hard as the servant turned away from him.

She looked back at him with a troubled gaze. "I'm not a whore," she began in a childlike voice, "and I don't want to just be your mistress."

"Miss—"

"Please sir," she interrupted. There was a long silence between them as they both struggled for words to say.

Laura broke the troubled silence. "If you only knew how I feel about you," she pleaded.

The officer had sensed all too well her feelings for him long ago, but denied them. He dreaded the day this would come—the moment she would verbalize her emotions. Miles kidded himself into thinking that the often timid servant would never be brazen enough to tell him. He thought the payment each time would buy her silence; purchase him respite from her true feelings.

Deep within, he did want to court the pretty servant openly and in the right. But Bordon, a brave, genteel officer, couldn't seem to find a way out from under his wealthy and aristocratic parents. He reasoned that if word should get back to England about his exploits with the legion—rough interrogation of prisoners, and sometime participation in the killing of innocent people—hence the nickname "Brutal Bordon", he could rationalize that to them. He'd wave it away with a sweep of his hand, calling it a "necessity of war", or acting under orders. But how would he explain a common house servant as a wife to a pair of staunch aristocrats? Bordon deduced that they would always think of her as a money grubber and social climber, seeking to use him to pull herself up from the lower classes.

Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly realized that she was speaking again.

"Miles…I lov—"

"Don't," he commanded. He wouldn't let her say it, and he damned sure couldn't listen to her tell him. Part of Miles was still trying to logic the situation out: if she didn't say it, the feeling did not exist. He was safe.

"But there are things to be said," she protested, near panic, "things I have to tell you."

"Laura, please don't do this," begged Miles.

The desperate girl reached for his arms, trying to persuade him to listen to her. "But I need to tell you something—"

"No, Laura, don't," he interrupted her. "I don't want you to have feelings for me."

Laura's face clouded over with confusion and disappointment as she stared into his eyes. The officer could feel himself breaking her heart.

The man took a breath and steeled himself. He stood up straight and tried to appear firm and unshaken with no emotion. He clasped his hands behind his back, as if addressing the dragoons about some military matter.

"When this war is over," he began stoically, "I'll go home to England and manage my father's business. And you will stay here and help run your family's plantation."

The pretty servant stared at him in mute disbelief. She had successfully deluded herself into thinking he returned her love.

Miles gazed back at her, studying her reaction. As he struggled still to find more words, he reached forward and clasped her wrist. The officer pulled her arm upward with no resistance, as if she were a ragdoll. He placed the coins into her palm, then gently closed her fist around the silver. As he let go of her arm, it fell limply to her side as the girl never took her eyes, still incredulous as things unraveled.

"We're from two completely different worlds," he said carefully. "There is not a future for us beyond this conflict. We are together by circumstance; just for the present and out of our need." Miles searched her face again for a tiny or small glimmer of hope, as if he could change or erase her feelings with a magic wave of his hand.

The officer continued. "Your feelings must stop here…..now," he commanded, as if giving one of his men an order. Bordon was still trying to fool himself into thinking she could stop her emotion that instant.

"There's nothing else for us beyond….._this,_" he explained as he cocked his head toward his bed, signaling her only use to him. "I'm sorry. I thought you understood the arrangement?"

The servant's beautiful eyes misted over, still in shock at how this warm and affable officer became so cold to her in an instant. Laura was too numb to sob aloud, but she could not stop the tears that escaped her eyes. They ran down her cheeks, betraying any pride that she had left.

Absently, the girl's fist opened, releasing the coins held within. The freed coins dropped onto the floor making a faint clinking sound in reality. But to Bordon, the sound they made was deafening, causing the man to suck in a harsh breath.

Laura never took her eyes off Miles as she began to weep. And in her confusion and sadness, the girl backed mindlessly out of the room and into the hallway, absently pulling the door to. Her stare still had not waivered, only now she gaped numbly at the closed door in front of her, as if she could still see Bordon through it. Without a word, and weeping softly, she somehow turned her body away. And staring blindly ahead, she escaped quietly down the corridor as fresh tears streamed down her face.

On the other side of the door, a frustrated Bordon pounded his fist against the wall. He folded his arms and rested himself upon the wall, burying his head in them. The officer groaned in anguish.

Major Bordon had best intentions in the whole thing: he only wanted to deflect her feelings for him. Miles had never had a mistress before. He felt sick now, knowing he'd made the poor girl a whore, and realizing he'd handled the situation horribly.


	29. Chapter 29 Revenge

CHAPTER 29 Revenge 

Within a few days of his conversation with General O'Hara requesting furlough to find Karen, William and his dragoons were readying for a decisive battle coming up in the next few days. Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon had taken a small detachment of dragoons on a reconnaissance mission in the area.

As nightfall neared, they were in the proximity of the English main camp not far from a rolling field where cows were penned, having proposed that the attack would take place somewhere in the vicinity. Not knowing the trails well enough to ride in the dark and having no local guide with them, they decided to make camp for the night.

At Sunset of this day, their riding ended at a clearing on the edge of some woods at the bottom of a hill. Tavington would have usually chosen the crest of this glen for the advantage of higher ground but thought the lower ground near the water more strategic, affording them a hiding place just off the road. They were next to a rocky, babbling creek where the men could wash up and horses could be watered.

Once all the steeds were tied up at the creek for water, the small group went immediately to setting up camp for the evening. A shallow fire pit was quickly dug, a fire made and dinner put on to cook. Supper this evening was boiled chicken, courtesy of the farm in which it had been confiscated from earlier in the day.

As the food cooked, the men went to work setting up their tents. Within an hour, the clearing had been turned into a dragoon campsite consisting of 12 small tents. For these short or overnight missions, the men—even the officers—had only room for the small wedge tents usually issued to privates. The miniscule lodgings were set up quickly on their "A" shaped frames, and staked down equally as fast. Though small, they gave protection and privacy for the single soldier that dwelt within.

Colonel Tavington preferred the larger, more roomy tents which were supplied to the commanders within semi-permanent camp situations which were set up for weeks to months. But only so much could be packed in one's saddle bags, so all carried the smallest of tents. He missed a desk to write at, small table to sit at, and comfy cot which were the commander's privileges. But this evening, Tavington was so fatigued that the tiny canvas dwelling of a private suited him fine.

The small group of 12 men were tired and weary. They ate without much conversation and turned in early. The whole campsite was quiet and sleepy, save for the two commanders, still awake finishing paperwork, and Private Higgins, the first sentry on duty.

Miles Bordon had been unusually quiet all day long, and just as pensive in the camp this evening. Now in his tent, he quickly finished up jotting the day's events in his field diary and reclined back on his bedroll. As he closed his eyes, he was haunted by thoughts of Miss Laura Pratt, as he had been for most of the day. _His mind raced: How would he face her once they arrived back at the McKinnon's? He would run into her surely. Should he let the situation die and remain a cad in one woman's eyes? If he did, he risked her shooting her mouth off to everyone, staining his reputation. Still it would be his word against hers, and most certainly everyone would believe any lie he could concoct about their trysts. He could take the higher road, risk his parent's scorn and possible disinheritance, but be able to live with himself and find possible happiness. _

The officer tried to push all of that out of his mind, but the thoughts seemed to scream loudly within, causing him to wonder how to find any immediate peace. Miles sat up and sighed, looking about the small tent. A smile soon crossed his face. The officer reached for his jacket, retrieving his Rosary beads from the inner pocket. He always seemed to find tranquility when he held that most precious gift from his parents.

With beads in hand, Major Bordon closed his eyes and whispered the introductory Rosary prayers. He felt better momentarily. But by the time he reached the first decade of beads, he found his thoughts moving back to Laura. He tried to force himself to concentrate on his prayers as his fingers moved from bead to bead, but kept losing the count of prayers. After a few frustrating tries, he heaved an exasperated sigh. "Sorry Father," he apologized to the Lord under his breath, "Not tonight. Forgive me."

Meanwhile in his commander's meager tent, the Colonel was having similar problems trying to rest. William tried to sleep, but could not relax. In the quiet of the night, Will's thoughts traveled naturally to Karen, whom he longed to be with. He also puzzled over why he found himself dreading the impending battle, just wanting to get it over with quickly as possible, as he usually thrived on the excitement and anticipation of combat. It seemed that all that mattered to him anymore was reconciling with Karen as soon as possible and putting right the grievous wrong he'd done.

Will lit a low lantern in his small tent. The officer partially unfolded one of the maps of the area, studied it, then jotted a couple of notes on it. He paused for a moment, trying to recall the name of one of the roads they'd traveled earlier that day when he heard a rustling outside the canvas.

"Colonel." He recognized Bordon's deep voice, now hushed lest he wake the men.

"Yes," William responded in time to see the canvas parting and Bordon crawling into the small space.

"I saw the lantern," announced Bordon in a whisper, "and figured you must be having as much trouble sleeping as I am, so I thought I'd join you."

Major Bordon seated himself at the foot of Tavington's bedroll, feet from where his commander sat at the opposite end of the tent. The two dragoon leaders now sat crosslegged, quiet for the moment.

William spoke, not bothering to look up from the map he studied. "My haversack is down there." Bordon instinctively reached for the thing and picked it up. Assuming the colonel needed it, he started to pass it to the man.

Still studying the map intently, he did not take the pack from his adjutant's hand. "There's a bottle of Port in there," William announced.

Bordon put the pack down in front of him and pulled out the bottle of wine. He shot a questioning look at his superior and friend, his eyebrows raised. Tavington caught the queried look of his adjutant as he glanced up from the map.

"Oh, it was confiscated from that cabin we searched earlier today," he confessed. "Didn't you notice that I was the last one out?"

"No," Bordon chuckled. "We need it more than the rebels do, don't we?"

"Yes, maybe a bit of that will help us sleep. Here," Tavington said as pulled his empty silver flask, the one with the engraved "WT" on it, along with his tin coffee cup out and gave them both to his aide-de-camp.

Miles removed the cork, refilled Tav's flask, then poured himself some of the wine into the coffee cup. "Cheers," he saluted raising his cup to his friend.

Tavington responded in kind. He marked another spot on the map, not noticing how quiet his second in command was.

"What was the name of that road we were on today. I Can't recall…" Tavington requested, his voice trailing off.

"The York Road," Bordon answered.

"Thank you," Tavington acknowledged. He soon found the road on the map and made a note next to it.

As William folded the map back into a more compact shape, he noticed Bordon absently palming his Rosary. He gave a silent look of question to the major, pointing to the beads in his hand.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep," Miles acknowledged, forgetting it was still wrapped about his hand. "My mother used to tell me to recite the Rosary when I had trouble sleeping. She said it wasn't a sin to fall asleep amidst prayer, as if it gave one more protection to nod off while addressing God."

Tavington snickered quietly at that observation. Bordon continued. "She always acted as if the Rosary was something miraculous, not that prayer isn't strong, but she reveres it like it is some sort of magic incantation that can solve anything."

Miles took a sip of the Port, then went on. "As an adult, I've found that this isn't the case. God doesn't necessarily bestow the answers just because you recite the Rosary. More and more of my prayers seem to go unanswered."

William, his cravat off and neck of his shirt open, instinctively touched the Saint Christopher medal he wore always that Karen had given him. He spoke as he rubbed the medal between his fingers. "I used to think the Rosary was magical as well when I was a child until a priest told me that it's the Lord's choice whether or not ever to give us an answer. And thanks to those wondrous words of wisdom from Father Gerring, I now pray less than ever because God is going to do whatever He pleases no matter what you ask, however humbly and fervently."

Both men laughed as they savored their drinks of Port. Bordon pressed his Rosary beads into his pocket then spoke. "I hear that you will be settling here in the colonies when all this business is done," Bordon said in a hushed tone. He took another pull on his drink.

"Yes," acknowledged William. "Had to make a deal with the devil to get it. Lord Corwallis will give me a land grant in exchange for the Ghost, allowing me to use whatever methods we see fit to get him."

Tavington sipped another bit of wine, then continued. "It all works out perfectly. It will be a place for Karen and our family. Besides, I can't very well return to England in shame."

"I can't imagine you a farmer," Bordon commented. "What about flour mills, like your family had?"

"A rather large plantation or farm," answered the colonel. "I might try to start some mills. I rather hoped to become a general of the highest rank. Then maybe a territorial governor."

Major Bordon was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "Aren't you worried about retribution from the locals?"

"No, not at all. They will either respect me or fear me."

Another moment of quiet passed between the two officers. Tavington broke the silence. "Why do you ask?"

Bordon hesitated a minute, then answered. " I pondered using part of my inheritance to purchase a farm here."

Tavington, leaning back slightly as if to get a better look at his subordinate, raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised. You love England so much. I thought you were anxious to get back there."

"Uh….Yes….no.." Miles stammered. "My _father_ is anxious for me to return—"

"To become the emperor of the Bordon furniture empire," Tavington interrupted questioningly.

The major nodded then became introspective. He spoke up again, subdued and looking down at the canvas. "I'm just looking at all the future options."

Colonel Tavington suspected that something was up. His aide–de-camp had been anxious to return home to England to head up his family's business. And, the man was always happy to please his parents.

The colonel chuckled quietly. "Bordon—The Gentleman Farmer."

"Maybe," Miles sighed. Again, more quiet.

"Your answers are unusually short," Tavington remarked. "What's the trouble, Major?"

"Nothing," Bordon replied trying to shrug things off.

"Come now, Miles. How many years have we been friends?"

Miles let out a sigh of protest although William was determined not to give up. Bordon's sudden change of heart over wanting to stay in the colonies had piqued his interest.

"Tell me," began William in a sly voice, "would your sudden and shocking decision to stay be because of a pretty blonde servant?"

The Major's eyes widened in disbelief. He immediately caught himself and tried to play it down. "Nothing of the sort."

Tavington knew he had hit a nerve. A huge look of conquering delight spread across his face. "I _knew_ you fancied her," he exclaimed in a roguish voice.

"I assure you, there is nothing between us," Miles lied. "It is innocent."

"I saw her leaving your room late one night looking disheveled and quite exhausted."

"That doesn't mean anything," argued Bordon. "Her duties have her all over that house at various hours."

"You pulled her back through the door three times," Tavington pointed out with a smirk. "And Karen saw you holding her hand."

"She's been my mistress for some time now," Miles admitted without further hesitation.

"Bordon, you scoundrel!" hooted Tavington. He simply could not resist having a joke about it at his second in command's expense. "Well, it seems Major Bordon the gentleman has been less than honorable. What a naughty boy your are!"

The Major suddenly turned red with embarrassment. He was quiet for a moment, reflecting painfully on the whole situation between him and Laura.

"She was innocent," Bordon remarked in a dejected tone. "And I've made her into a whore."

Tavington was still having too much fun at Bordon's revelation. He ignored his adjutant's obvious distress over the situation.

"It's a good thing that Tarleton doesn't know of this. I could just imagine him over a game of Faro," Tavington proclaimed. He then acted as though he held a hand of cards, and imitating Banastre's voice he joked, "I'd like to wager for myself a turn with Bordon's whore."

Tavington laughed quietly at his joke as Bordon cringed. The words "Bordon's whore" seemed to burn a hole into him.

"Don't joke about this, William," he begged. "I feel badly enough about it as it is. She probably is not going to be my mistress much longer."

"Why not?"

"We had a terrible row last night. I talked horribly to her. She must think me a fiend. She will probably tell Mrs. McKinnon that I seduced her and I'll be turned out of the house."

"No," disagreed William. "She would be exposing herself if she says anything about you. Then _she_ will be dismissed from the household."

"I could tell she had feelings for us," Bordon confessed, "So I treated her like a harlot, hoping to discourage her from emotion. I made her cry last night. She ran out of my room in tears."

"Miles, do you know how many times I've made Karen cry? And, they only cry because they love you. And we only feel guilty about those tears when _we_ love them."

Both men took another drink, then Tavington spoke again. "No wonder you had your Rosary out. You're going to need God's help with this one."

"I don't know what to do," Bordon sighed. "I can't take a servant girl home to my family—they would never accept her. If I stay here, at least I may have a chance at trying courtship with the girl."

Tavington nodded his head in agreement.

Bordon continued on, still lost on what to do of the situation. "At least from here, an ocean's length away, it will be easier to lie to my parents about her social status."

William leaned back as a grin crossed his face. "I recall something you said years ago. In fact, on the day I proposed to Karen. We were on our horses at the end of her lane, parting. You made the comment that you would probably fall in love with a beautiful poor girl and marry her."

"I have said that before, haven't I?" Bordon said with uncertaintly. "It seems I predicted my own future."

"So, you love her?" Tavington asked.

"I...I don't know," Miles stammered. "I don't know how I feel or what to do."

"Miles," began William, "my advice is to stay here in this land of opportunity and do whatever the Hell you want with whomever you please."

Both men shared a laugh at the humor. Tavington shook his head. "Ah, love is wonderful—and excruciating."

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Colonel Tavington was the first one up that morning. He was anxious to return to the main encampment and meet with Captain Wentworth. He had left the junior officer in charge of the Dragoons that remained behind at Cornwallis' camp.

William put some wood on the coals and built the fire back up. Then he fetched water, set it by the fire, and started some coffee. He went about his duties quietly, letting the other men sleep. The commander sat down on a log and wrote some notes in his field diary, relishing the peace as he nibbled on some bread from his pack and drank some coffee.

Within thirty minutes, Major Bordon was up and roused the other men awake. As soon as the others were up and around, Miles ran to the creek to groom quickly and get back to the men. While the aide-de-camp was gone, Tavington talked with the Higgins, the overnight sentry, noting his observations, then looked about the immediate camp area, noticing more about it in the morning light than when they arrived there at twilight last evening.

The men began to cook breakfast, while others broke down the tents and gathered their things to leave. Tavington went down to the water to shave and wash up while the others were eating. He would get his hot food when he was finished. Bordon met him on his way back up to the camp, wrapping his smoothly braided hair as he walked.

At the creek, William washed up quickly. He dipped his hands in the cold water and ran them through his long hair, making it wet and wavy. Then he put his shirt and coat back on, leaving them unbuttoned and hanging as he finished up.

William stood up from where he was and surveyed his men for a moment, checking on things. He absentmindedly ran his brush through his dark mane of hair as he looked around the woods and land next to the creek bank.

After a few minutes, he squatted down close to the water, preparing to shave when his stomach growled from hunger. He could smell the breakfast cooking. As William looked up at the camp, his view partially obscured by a large tree, he watched Bordon momentarily packed things into his saddlebags.

The men were subdued this morning. Tavington knew everyone was tired and the faster they got back to the safety of Cornwallis' camp, the better. They could have a little more rest once there.

William's hair was still very damp as he shaved. He'd leave it loose as he ate breakfast and let the fire dry his mane. He'd deal with getting it back into its regulation wrapped queue last thing before riding off. The smoke from the campfire moved slowly through the hollow of the brook, filling it, and making the colonel's stomach growl again.

Major Bordon ate light this morning and drank a quick cup of coffee. As the fire from breakfast burned down, keeping the last bit of food for the colonel warm, the men finished packing their things. The second in command surveyed the camp and noted that they were ready to leave as quickly as the commander finished breakfast.

As he waited for Tavington to return, Bordon leaned back against a tree watching the men mill about and surveying the area around the camp. Miles thought he heard something. The major cocked his head to the side then came forward from the tree to stand up straight.

Major Bordon strained to see where the noise came from. Just then, at the crest of the hill, he could see the heads of men and horses. After a few seconds, they appeared at the apex of the slope and were barreling straight down toward the camp. They wore no uniforms, so he knew it was rebels. The officer was immediately on edge.

"To arms! To Arms!" Bordon shouted the alarm. He ran immediately to his horse to retrieve his firearms.

Tavington stood up fast, looking up at the camp to see what was the matter. He had heard Bordon's frantic cries and saw the men scurrying about. From his point, the large tree and the smoke from the breakfast fire partially obscured the view of the horsemen, so he wasn't sure how many they were up against. Will cursed himself for not having brought a weapon down with him.

He threw down his razor and mirror and sprinted up the creek bank to the horses as fast as his legs could carry him. It wasn't until he'd passed the trees that he saw they were outnumbered.

His men and the rebels were already shooting at each other. Tavington and Bordon both pulled all their weapons from their saddlebags and holsters. Both men shot from near where the horses stood, each hitting a Colonial. Two dragoons had already been hit and a third was shot right in front of William. He went down to the ground and William jumped over him to continue fighting.

Bordon, with pistol in the left hand and sword in the right, got off another good shot as his sword swung above his head, readying to slice into an unlucky rebel. The second officer then moved forward to use his sword. He saw one of the dragoons fighting hand to hand with one of the rebels. Miles saw his underling knocked to the ground as the rebel butted him with his musket.

Tavington began swinging his sword. He got his first foe, slicing him across the abdomen then knocking him in the back of his head with the handle of his pistol. He quickly went after another colonial, deftly swinging his sabre and wounding the man severely in first the stomach, then the back.

Major Bordon went after a younger rebel that was trying to reload. The look on Bordon's face was one of determination as he raced toward the young man. Miles attacked with an unleashed ferocity. He swung the sword several times but the young man was blocking the cuts with his musket.

Tavington sunk his weapon into the gut of a third rebel, pulling it hard out of his belly. He threw down his sword and reloaded his pistol with fast precision, never taking his eyes off of his rebel target. He wanted to shoot at one of the men that was close to where Bordon was fighting. He shot and killed.

Meanwhile, Bordon, the adrenaline coursing fiercely through his body, was pounding away with his sword on the young man, trying to get in just one good slice. He could tell that the boy was wearing down and would soon not be able to block the blows, then Bordon would sink the sword.

Suddenly, the major felt a sharp blow to his back which knocked him forward. A man with the rebels, one the dragoons knew as a clergyman, had rammed his musket butt into the center of Miles's back. The momentum launched him forward and knocked the wind out of him. As he tried desperately to get his bearings and catch his breath, the young man reached into his boot and pulled out a dagger, which he stuck hard into Bordon's middle.

Miles gasped, feeling a hot searing sensation as he felt the blade sink into his belly, causing him to drop his own weapon. The young man pulled the dagger out and stabbed Bordon again higher up in the abdomen. The officer's eyes widened in pain as his hand went to the dagger, feeling it still stuck there in his belly. He instinctively held on to the knife as if to prevent the young rebel from pulling it out and stabbing him yet a third time. Bordon howled out in agony and gasped again as he fell to the ground on his side. He laid there as he heard gunfire, trying to catch his breath. Then he passed out.

Tavington witnessed Bordon go down after the Reverend and young man had ganged up on him. The young rebel, still a few feet away from William, looked familiar. Tavington bit off the tab and reloaded his pistol lightning fast, staring down his foe. The clergyman had reloaded his musket and aimed it at William. The Colonel was not afraid. He pointed his pistol and got a shot off before the cleric could, shooting the preacher through the side and knocking him to his knees.

As Reverend Oliver went down, his loaded musket flew out of his hands and back over his head landing in the hands of the youngest rebel. The young man, the only rebel left standing, now faced off against Tavington, the only dragoon left upright. They aimed at each other. The young rebel's musket shot leapt from his gun first, hitting Colonel Tavington in the left side.

William's eyes rounded in pain as the ball tore through his body. He dropped his weapon. Both hands grabbed at the wound in his side, gasping in torment as he did. Then his knees buckled and he fell to the ground on his front, groaning in pain.

The young rebel saw no movement from Colonel Tavington, who lay on the ground prone and silent, amidst the other dead and injured. The young man then stepped back to Bordon, who was still unconscious, and pulled his dagger from the dragoon's belly. He then walked quietly over to Tavington, either to finish him off, or to hack his dragoon body to shreds.

He stood over the silent commander for a moment with a determined look on his face. The man raised the dagger to plunge it into his victim, when all of a sudden, Tavington rolled over on to his back eyes wide open and wild, and thrust his sword hard up into the rebel's abdomen. As William looked into the face of the young rebel now impaled on his sabre, he recognized the man as Gabriel Martin, son of the Ghost.

Now it all made sense to him. Gabriel obviously figured out which dragoon had ordered the church burnt with his new wife in it, had chased them down for revenge and finally caught up to them after two months. Now, Tavington was watching Gabriel die upon his own sword. The young rebel had nothing but hate for Tavington in his eyes as he struggled to breathe and felt the painful wound.

William forced Gabriel's wounded body over on to the ground. He pushed himself up to sitting and caught his breath, the wound making it hard to breathe. Then he slowly stood up, groaning as he did.

Colonel Tavington looked down at the dying Gabriel Martin with disdain. He was gasping for air. William narrowed his eyes at the rebel, then pulled the sabre out of Martin's abdomen. Gabriel groaned loudly as his body wrenched painfully upwards with the sword.

Tavington's face, partly shaven smooth and half shadowed by stubble, was now grimy with gunpowder and smoke. His uniform was blood spattered and dirty. William's side ached terribly from where he'd been shot.

Quickly pulling his shirt up out of his breeches, he slipped his right hand underneath it to assess his injury. He ran his fingers over his side and ribs, feeling entry and exit holes. The skin around the wound was still hot from where the bullet had passed through him.

_Good, he thought. Bullet's not lodged. Clean wound. _

His fingers were covered with blood as he took them from his shirt. William raised the garment, craned his head to the side and down to see the wound. It was not bleeding profusely, only lightly and slowly.

A rustling in the bushes startled him and instinctively, he started to run, not knowing who or how many were coming at him. He couldn't very well fight them alone and injured. The Colonel was relieved to see one of the horses trampling out of the brush.

With adrenaline still flooding his veins, Tavington regained his senses. As he did, he looked around at the carnage. Dead and injured Dragoons and rebels lay all about him. He quickly assessed heavy casualties William felt very alone. He was the only man standing upright in the middle of the mess. Anger and sorrow passed through him at the sight of his men, all dead. His eyes started to sting as tears formed. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and drew in a deep breath, willing the show of defeat away. _Those fucking rebels won't break me, he thought. _

Colonel Tavington thought he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. He looked to his left and caught sight of the back of Major Bordon. He had lost track of Bordon while fighting or reloading his guns. He recalled last seeing him fighting Gabriel Martin. He didn't remember much after that with his own wound and the other excitement and struggle.

William ran to where Bordon was laying on the ground curled up in a fetal position on his side. Tavington dropped to his knees beside his second in command. Miles Bordon opened his eyes.

"William," he said in a weak and pained voice, "I kept quiet so they'd think I was dead."

Tavington smiled, though deeply concerned. "Where are you hurt?"

"My gut," he answered.

The Colonel gently rolled Bordon on to his back, causing him to groan aloud in misery.

"Sorry," he apologized. Tavington looked at Bordon's uniform, soaked with blood and covered with dirt and dust. He pushed the injured officer's coat aside, then unbuttoned his vest. Miles winced as Tavington pulled his shirt up and out of his pants to look at the wound. He wiped the blood away from the wound as gently as possible with his handkerchief. There were two stab wounds in the abdomen. They spurted blood and oozed profusely.

"Who did it?" Tavington asked.

"That young Martin, the son. The post rider from that farm," answered Miles.

The major's breathing was labored as he groaned in pain. William could see that he was having trouble talking, but wanted to keep him conscious.

"The one that escaped during the Ghost's first massacre?" William questioned, yet tried to finish what Miles was saying since the adjutant was laboring to speak.

"Yes," Bordon answered with another gasp. "We should have hung him right there at that farm when we had the chance."

"I took care of him," retorted the Colonel. "He's as good as dead." William reached into Miles's jacket pocket to retrieve a handkerchief and continued. "He shot me." Tavington pushed up his shirt and showed his wound to his friend.

Bordon groaned at the sight of it, making his own wound hurt that much more, and closed his eyes.

William re-folded the handkerchief and continued on. "So, I fell and played dead. Fortunately, my sword was on the ground near me. He came over to finish me off. I caught him off guard. Rolled over fast and ran him through."

Tavington put the handkerchief on Bordon's wound for a moment as he thought to himself about the situation. He knew the officer's wounds were deep, but he wasn't sure how deep. William judged them potentially fatal, but treatable, if he could get help for him. He assumed that Miles would be out of commission on recovery for months.

Major Bordon's mouth and chin were bloodied, which concerned William. He wasn't sure if he'd taken a hit to the mouth, or if a blade had penetrated into his stomach. He rummaged Miles's jacket pockets and found another handkerchief. He used it to wipe the blood from Bordon's mouth and chin.

"Alright," the Colonel said in his commanding tone, "I've got to get you to a surgeon."

"No," Miles bellowed. The thought of moving from where he lay made him all the more sick. "Just leave me. I'll slow you down."

"Don't be ridiculous, Miles," snapped Tavington, "I won't leave you here to be captured by rebels!"

"Tav, I'm cold," Bordon said. Tavington looked over at his friend who was shuddering, still curled up on his side. He looked around for a blanket and spied someone's bedroll, still open near the fire. The commander grabbed it and threw it over Miles.

Colonel Tavington knew whatever he did, he'd have to work quickly, lest more Rebels come down over the hill.

He needed material for bandages. He left Bordon momentarily to run to his own horse where he rummaged through his saddlebags for one of his shirts. Usually, the officers carried extra shirts with them. He could only find one in his, so he went to Bordon's horse, went through the baggage, and found a second shirt.

As he was foraging for makeshift wound dressings, he contemplated his decision to take Bordon away with him. He was so seriously injured and in great pain. Tavington thought again, thinking about if he did leave him there.

If left behind, it would be double the amount of time to get help to Bordon, considering the trip to the camp, and the trip back with help. That would be with no trouble or obstructions. Obstructions would slow that down even more. Who could predict what would happen to Miles during that time. He could take a turn for the worse—or die. He could be found by rebels and tortured or killed. But what if something happened to Tavington along the way. Then a man, who may have been saved, might die without the messenger to pass the news along for help.

On the other hand, he could take Bordon with him back to Cornwallis' camp, which he deemed not far away. But he was in so much pain and not in good condition to ride. Riding might injure him further.

Tavington quickly decided it was worth the risk to ride back to the camp, sticking with his original decision. They could stay off the road and ride at an easy pace that Bordon could handle, stopping if they needed to for rest.

Back at Bordon's side again, Tavington placed one of the shirts, which he had folded into a compress, on his friend's abdomen. He then placed Miles's hand over the shirt.

"Hold that there," William instructed, "I'll be back straight away."

He took a few steps to his side to the nearest dead Colonial. Tavington dragged his body by the feet back over to Bordon's resting spot. The Colonel then helped his second in command to sit up. Bordon whimpered as he did, feeling that this was the worse pain he'd ever felt from a battle injury. Tavington, holding Bordon by the shoulder with one hand, reached behind him and clumsily pulled the rebel body over and propped Bordon against it.

Colonel Tavington set about wrapping the other shirt around Major Bordon's waist to hold the dressing in place. He kept his ears and eyes open as he did, watching for more rebels. Bordon winced as Tavington tied the binding tightly. He wanted pressure on the wound to stave off as much bleeding as possible.

When he was finished dressing Bordon's wound, he left him again to round up their horses. Usually, they would have gathered all of the horses, Dragoon or rebel, and taken them away with them, for they were a valuable commodity. But William couldn't handle a sick man and a bunch of horses at the same time, so the decision was made to leave them behind. He didn't worry about rummaging the rest of the baggage for paperwork or maps that could fall into Rebel possession because only he and Bordon were carrying any papers of value with them.

He led Bordon's horse over to him. Tavington helped him to stand, and Bordon cried out as he did. Tavington had never seen Bordon in that much pain from injuries—he was as tough as the Colonel. He knew time was imperative now on the ride to the camp. Tavington had no doubt that Bordon would have a better chance at recovery if he could get him back to the surgeon in one piece.

Tavington helped him onto his horse, then mounted his own. They took off, first at a walk, then picking the pace up to a trot. They tested the pace a little faster, and a smooth trot was the most Bordon could take. Even with that, he felt it was jarring his insides apart, and was bringing tears of pain to his eyes intermittently as they rode.

They rode alternately on the road, and sometimes along the road in the woods if he could find paths that paralleled it. The pair stopped for a few minutes at a time, every half hour or so, giving Bordon a chance to recover, and find the stamina to go on. One of those stops, Tavington had to change Bordon's dressings. He was still bleeding so heavily that he had completely bloodied one shirt. Fortunately, William had thought to grab what looked like a fairly clean shirt off of a dead militiaman, who'd been shot in the head and hadn't bled onto it, to use as another dressing.

Looking at the map, Tavington judged they were within miles of the camp. They moved out again, at a slower pace the last leg of the journey as Bordon had weakened. Miles was slumped over his horse, barely having the strength to hang on to the reigns. Tavington encouraged him, saying they were very close to camp.

Finally, after four slow hours, as they emerged from the woods, Tavington saw what he thought were Redcoats. When the wind would blow from that direction, he could hear the faint voice of a fife. Bordon had a hold of the saddle pommel and Tavington held the reins of his friend's horse in his hands, walking slowly into the clearing. They had to cross a field of winter Wheat to get to the edge of the encampment.

In the middle of the field, Bordon slid off his horse and fell to the ground. Tavington jumped down to his friend's aid. William knelt down beside him and pulled Miles into his arms.

"Bordon," he cried, "Don't do this to me now. We're almost to camp!"

There was no response. "Bordon! Bordon!"

William heard British voices shouting from across the field at them. He looked up and could see the figures running toward them, guns and bayonets drawn, ready to attack.

"Miles," he said again, "help is on the way. Miles?"

Bordon babbled some incoherent words.

Then, the pair was surrounded by four Redcoat sentries, all demanding to know who they were.

"I'm Colonel William Tavington of His Majesty's Green Dragoons. And this is my second in command, Major Miles Bordon. He's badly hurt and needs a surgeon now, please! We're the only two left alive from our detachment—ten of my men are dead. We were ambushed this morning. If General O'Hara and General Cornwallis are here, they know us!"

Two of the men ran to the tent area to get help, and the other two stayed with Tavington, kneeling around he and Bordon, asking what happened. Tavington recounted their ordeal.

Then Miles revived. "I'm thirsty," he murmured.

One of the sentries handed his canteen to Tavington, who helped Miles to take a sip from it.

His eyes started to close again. Tavington wasn't about to lose his friend.

"Damn it, Miles, stay with me," he begged. "You'll be on the table before the surgeon in a moment."

Miles groaned.

"Wanted rest, eh?" joked Tavington, looking down on Miles's face, contorted with pain. "You're going to have a long rest and recovery, you are!"

Bordon forced a smile, which told Tavington his friend would be fine.

"Hold on, they're bringing the litter now, I can see it!" Tavington exclaimed to his friend. He continued on with senseless banter to keep Miles alert. "You know, just because you're hurt doesn't mean you can get out of being the bestman at our wedding."

Bordon spoke in a weak voice. "Marry her soon. She's waited long enough."

"I'm planning on it, as soon as I get back from this next battle—if she'll have me," William said. "So, doesn't matter how hurt you are or if you can stand or not. I'll prop you up at the altar if I have to!"

"Not going to let me out of it?" Bordon joked back, his voice sounding even more faint.

"No!"

"Well, I wouldn't miss it for anything," Bordon whispered. His eyelids fluttered, and he passed out again.

Just about that time, the stretcher arrived and scooped him up, carrying him quickly to the hospital tents, where a surgeon was waiting.

The sentries helped William into the camp, trailing slowly behind with the horses. The animals were lead to the pens, and Colonel Tavington made his way into the hospital tent. He worked his way through the tent to where Bordon was.

He got to the table only to find Bordon weakly trying to fight off the surgeon as he touched the injured man's abdomen. William stood next to the table and put his hand on Bordon's forehead to calm him. He moved to the edge of the table and cradled Miles's head in his arms.

"It's alright," he comforted. "They're going to put you back together." Tavington grabbed a bite stick off the surgeon's tray and brought it to Bordon's mouth. Before he could put it in, Bordon spoke.

"William, I've done my best," whispered Miles.

"Yes, you have," William assured.

"He just got the dagger in me before I could kill him."

"I know. You're strong. You'll be fine," Tavington said confidently.

The surgeon motioned for Tavington to leave so they could administer some Laudanum for the pain and repair his wounds.

"You're one of the lucky ones, Bordon," Tavington quipped softly in Miles's ear. "Looks like you're going to get some Laudanum." Only the worst injuries got the painkiller.

With that, Tavington gently pushed the bite stick into Major Bordon's mouth so they could start working on his wounds. William was relieved that Miles was going to get something soon for his pain.

Tavington made his way over to a bed and lay down for a few minutes, waiting for a medic to treat his own wound. He had been so full of adrenaline as it coursed through his body from the events of the morning. It was only now that he realized how tired and hungry he was. His stomach growled as he lay there thinking about getting up. But exhaustion won out and overtook him. He fell fast asleep.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

An hour later, a medic woke him saying in a Cockney accent, "You can't sleep here!"

William quickly came out of his sleep and pulled his shirt up, revealing his wound to the man. Within a few minutes, a doctor had seen him and another medic had come to take care of the wound. Tavington sat on the edge of the bed gritting his teeth and shuddering as they cleaned his wound. He tried not to flinch each time the needle went into his skin as his wound was sewn.

Another few minutes passed and the medic was dressing his wound. The Colonel held his shirt up and the man wrapped the gauze tightly about William's torso, pulling it taut to bind the dressing securely. Tavington's body moved with each tug of the bandage, making him wince under his breath.

As the medic was finishing up, tying off the material, Lord General Cornwallis walked in. "You'll be missed tomorrow, Colonel," he remarked in an official tone.

Colonel Tavington turned his head the direction of the voice. He wasn't sure why Cornwallis said what he did. "Missed, my Lord?"

"Your wound," the General replied.

Tavington stood up quickly from the bed just as the dresser finished with him. William took a step toward his superior and insisted, "It's nothing! I am, as ever, ready to serve."

"Very well," conceded Cornwallis in a subdued voice. "Make sure you do."

The general paused an instant, then moved in menacingly within inches from William's face. "I stand on the eve of the greatest victory of my career," stated Cornwallis. "Don't fail me."

_Bloody Hell, Tavington thought. Same shit, different day! I know what's coming. I know why he's here. It never ends. I'll be damned if he's going to get away with another reprimand. _

Tavington stood up for himself. "My efforts, in no small measure, brought you here!" he asserted defiantly.

"I'll grant you that small measure," Cornwallis patronized, "in spite of your failure to deliver the Ghost to me."

"Thus far," added Tavington, unafraid to correct what he thought was wrong.

General Cornwallis took another step forward, putting himself right into the legion commander's face threateningly. He spoke calmly, softly, and in control. "I will not tolerate a premature charge born of your eagerness for glory!" His warning was stern.

This immediately deflated Tavington's confidence. He wanted to say something, but was speechless. He knew he should speak out again for himself.

"Wait for my order," warned Cornwallis again, speaking slowly and enunciating his own words very clearly, highlighting them with a pause. He turned to leave and continued as he walked out of the tent. "Or you can abandon any hopes of Ohio." He would not hesitate to nullify the deal Tavington had struck with him.

Tavington looked down, dejectedly. He just couldn't understand why Cornwallis cut him down all the time. He was doing his duty to the best of his ability and was continually slapped in the face for it.

But, the reprimands for his ignoring of orders per his initiative he could deal with. William realized he had a bigger problem on his hands. He knew now that Cornwallis blamed him directly for the inability on England's part to capture the Ghost. It was clear to him that his superior thought him incompetent, but also the cause of Benjamin Martin's men causing more carnage and wreaking even more havoc.

William's head began to throb as he thought about this. He pondered how the situation with the Ghost had gone out of control and exactly when it had. Tavington had always had strong reign over various factions of his life and job, and now, everything was in an uproar and he couldn't contain things or bring order and organization back to situations.

Now depressed and frustrated from Cornwallis berating him, he thought he'd pull his spirits up and check on Bordon's progress. As he neared the table where Bordon was, he saw the surgeon cleaning up and a Priest with them. His heart began to pound as he walked at a faster pace to the table. As he got closer, he could hear the Priest.

"God of all consolation, you chose and sent your Son to heal the world. Graciously listen to our prayer of faith. Send the power of the Holy Spirit, the Consoler, into this precious oil." The Priest then made the Sign of the Cross over the holy chrism. "Are you truly sorry for all sins you have committed in the eyes of the Lord and do you wish redemption?"

Bordon, eyes closed, weakly nodded his head and murmured, "Yes."

Tavington had heard those words enough in his lifetime to recognize them. The Priest was administering the Last Rites. William panicked.

"What's this? Why?" questioned Colonel Tavington as he reached the table.

"He's dying," the surgeon answered.

"He can't be," William exclaimed in disbelief.

"I assure you, he is. His wounds are fatal," the doctor replied.

"But he's strong," Tavington cried, still in disbelief. "He's in good health. The wounds didn't look that bad!" William blurted the words out even though he knew better. He understood that war wounds and their severity could sometimes be deceiving.

"The wounds are deep, Colonel, puncturing his spleen and a kidney," said the doctor. "There's nothing more I can do for him." He shook his head, picked up his field surgery kit, and walked on to the next patient.

William clenched his fists as he stood there, not knowing what to do. He wanted to help Bordon. He wanted Miles to live.

On the other side of the tent, Captain Wentworth and Captain Wilkins had heard the news about the attack on the dragoons and that their two commanders had been hurt and were in the hospital tent. They came in looking for them, and raced over to the table where they could see Tavington and a Priest, fearing the worst. They got there to find an ashen Bordon dying on the table, with their distraught leader standing next to him. A medic at the table who had helped with both men filled the two in on the details of the accident and the injuries.

"William," Major Bordon began in a faint and ragged voice, "I really didn't want to die on the battlefield, or from the wounds—"

"No confessions or apologies, now, Bordon," William said in a shaky voice, trying to assuage any fear the dying man had.

"No, Tav," continued Bordon in a frail voice, "I never cared about the glory of it. I just wanted to fight honorably and…..and….bravely."

"You do," Tavington assured his friend. "Always."

Miles groaned, feeling an awful stab of pain in his body. Then he gasped.

"Just….just…rest easy," Tavington's voice faltered, not really knowing what to say. He looked down at his friend, concerned that he was in pain. He looked up at the young medic and the priest with wild desperation in his eyes. "What else can we do for him!"

The young medic officer, who was finished cleaning up and just turning to leave, and the priest, both shook their heads, in a gesture that conveyed that nothing else could be done.

Colonel Tavington's insides were knotted in anguish. He was still in shock that this was happening—and so fast! One moment there was a chance his friend could be saved. The next minute, there was no hope. And now he was losing his life. William just didn't understand.

"I'm not afraid," Miles whispered feebly, "but I'm not ready to go yet. I thought I'd live to be an old man."

The two Captains were surprised to see compassion and sorrow spilling out of their usually firm commander. Tavington gripped Bordon's hand and leaned down close to him.

The Priest could sense an urgency in the situation and that Bordon was slipping away fast. He quickly began to give the final Communion to the dying man.

Wanting to get the Host into Bordon quickly, the priest dispensed with most of the Eucharistic Rite, blessing the Body and Blood silently and quickly. He then held the wine and bread up. "This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the World. Happy are those who are called to his supper."

Tavington instinctively answered. "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed." Bordon mouthed the words, too weak to say them.

"The Body of Christ," said the Priest placing a tiny piece of bread on Bordon's tongue, and more on Tavington's. "Amen," both men answered.

"The Blood of Christ," the Priest continued. Tavington supported Miles's head enough to get a sip of wine. William swallowed as well. "Amen," both repeated.

William was becoming frantic. He bent down to speak to his friend.

"Fight this, Miles," he whispered, his voice breaking as he did. "You've got to fight." He knew the words were futile, but they came out of him in desperation.

"Be good to Karen," said Miles. "She deserves it." His voice was weak now, as if he was struggling to talk.

Tavington shook his head, his face contorted in anguish. "I will," he replied.

"Tell Laura I love her," Bordon strained to say, in a whisper. "Tell her I'm sorry."

"I'll tell her," Will assured Miles, swallowing hard to fight back emotion.

Tears ran from the corners of Bordon's eyes, streaming down and disappearing into his strawberry blonde hair. He realized he was dying and felt sorrow for himself. He had been hopeful to see this war through to victory and return to England. He hoped to marry one day and have a family. The terrible pain that he had been in was now starting to dissolve, but his strength had ebbed and he was weak. He felt helpless and wept because he couldn't do anything to save himself.

"Take care of Karen and your child," said Bordon, his voice a dim murmur.

"Yes, I will," Tavington promised, even though he knew not what would become of him and Karen. His eyes were glazing over with tears.

Tavington's throat hurt as he swallowed hard to fight back the tears, not wanting to break down in front of his men, and not wanting Bordon's last moments to be filled with his own despair.

"Where's my….Where's…whe….," Bordon's voice was fading.

Tavington knew he wanted his Rosary beads. He reached into the pocket of Miles's uniform jacket, hanging over a chair next to the table, and retrieved them. He pushed the crucifix into his friend's hand and clasped his weak fingers around it for him.

"Here's your cross," Tavington assured him, closing his fist around it.

"Major Bordon," the Priest began, leaning down to the dying man, "Please try to respond, if you can."

There was no acknowledgement from him.

Tavington spoke up. "I'll answer for him….if he can't." William still clasped Bordon's hand, and stroked his forehead with the other. He had always known there was a chance that they'd get killed in battle, but he thought of both of them as strong men and fierce warriors; that they would not be the ones to die during fighting. William never thought that he'd see a close friend die. Maybe some of his men, but not Bordon.

"Through this Holy anointing," began the priest, "may the Lord in His love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit." He then made the sign of the Cross on Bordon's forehead with a small amount of oil on the tip of his thumb.

"Amen," William responded as this was done.

The Priest continued and blessed the dying Major's hands with the chrism."May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up."

"Amen," William repeated, his voice colored with defeat and regret.

The priest continued on blessing Bordon's eyes, ears, nostrils, lips and feet, anointing each site with the holy oil. A tiny and barely noticeable shiver came from Miles's body as the Priest finished up.

After the Last Rites were concluded, the men stood there quietly as Bordon slipped away peacefully. A medic took Bordon's pulse and listened for his breathing—there was none.

The young medic spoke up to the trio. "I'm sorry. He's gone now."

"My God," Tavington moaned weakly and in disbelief. His head dropped down onto the bed, where he buried his face from the others, as he began to cry. But, within a few seconds, he remembered his men standing there, took a deep breath and composed himself as best as he could.

William placed Bordon's hands upon his chest, his left one on the bottom, his right one, still in a fist clasping the Rosary, on top. He gently pulled the Crucifix out of his fist and rearranged it in his hand, so that the beads were entwined around his fist and palm and the cross was laying on top of the fist. He laid his fist on top of his left hand.

"May the Lord forgive you by His most loving mercy whatever sins you have committed. May Angels accompany you to your rest. Amen." With this the Priest bid farewell to the saddened officers, reminding them to call on him if needed. Then he left to attend to another soldier.

Wilkins said nothing, saluted the fallen officer, and left. Captain Wentworth, who had greatly admired Major Bordon and who had considered him his mentor, just stood looking down at him, his face twisted into a look of disbelief. Wentworth reached his hand out and grasped Bordon's wrist and squeezed it. His eyes glazed over with sorrow and tears, but he was speechless. He lingered there in silence for another moment, looking at his dead commander. Then the young Captain turned slowly and walked away, leaving Tavington alone with his closest friend.

Tavington's eyes welled up with tears again. He closed them tight, which forced the teardrops to roll down his cheeks.

Still looking at the silent Bordon, Colonel Tavington opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He wiped his tears away with his hand, and continued to sit quietly with his friend and second in command for a few more moments.

The Colonel was in utter shock. He couldn't understand what went wrong or why Bordon died. Tavington thought the doctors could help him. His eyes were stinging again with more tears.

After another moment, he again wiped his tears away with his hand as he sighed. Colonel Tavington stood up, then genuflected deeply on his knee at the side of the table, as a Catholic would bow in front of a Bishop. He rose again and made the Sign of the Cross upon himself as he looked at Bordon.

Tavington put his hand on the head of his dead friend and stroked back his strawberry blonde hair. He then leaned down and kissed Bordon's forehead. "Sleep in Heaven, Miles, " he whispered.

With those words, he departed and quickly found the commander's tent assigned to him. Once inside his quarters, he sat down on his cot, put his head into his hands, and wept uncontrollably for grief over his slain friend. As he did, his heart broke for love of his friend, who he had not always treated well. And he longed for Karen, wanting her there with him, wishing to be in her arms, desiring her comfort. He pined for her own unique way of making him feel protected and cared for. It was all in the way that she loved him. This deep need for her now only made his grief worse.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

After an hour or so, Tavington, alone in his tent with his grief, had tried to write a letter to Bordon's family. He heard subdued voices outside the canvas.

"Colonel Tavington," an unfamiliar voice called out.

William chose to ignore the call and dipped his pen in the inkwell. He was having difficulty knowing what to write.

"Colonel?" the voice asked again.

"Go away!" growled William. He put the pen back in the ink and rested his forehead in his hand. His head and neck both ached, the result of too much stress and tension to stomach in one day.

In a moment, the voice called into the tent again. "Colonel Tavington, it's Captain Wentworth. May I come in for a moment?"

"Yes," answered William with a defeated sigh. His mind had been so preoccupied that he hadn't readily recognized his third officer's voice.

Wentworth entered, padding softly over to his commander's desk.

"Colonel," he began softly, but was quickly cut off.

"I can't receive anyone now. I'm not even thinking straight," he explained in an irritated voice. William then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.

"I understand, Sir," replied the Captain. But, that was not the reason he had entered the tent.

Wentworth was silent for a moment, not sure how the Colonel might react to what he had to tell him. He hesitated and wondered how to broach the subject. The Captain thought it was best just to say it outright.

"Um, they're ready to bury him, Sir," Wentworth announced in a low and sad voice.

Tavington heaved a sigh as his head dropped down to his chest. Captain Wentworth took a step forward and squeezed the shoulder of his commanding officer in a comforting gesture.

"Alright," Tavington said without a fight in a deeply dejected voice. "Thank you. I'll be there momentarily."

Captain Wentworth was still feeling very empty inside and trying to find a way to carry on with his newfound duties of leadership. He said nothing, turned, and left.

As he neared the tent opening, Tavington called after him.

"Captain," William called.

"Sir?"

Tavington got up and joined the young Captain at the door of the tent.

"I'm brevetting you to the rank of Major," he stated. "Lieutenant Kidwell has also been given the commission of Captain."

"Thank you, commander," Wentworth replied without much enthusiasm.

"I've written the paperwork already and will submit it to General O'Hara today," he told the new major. "I'm sure there won't be a problem with it."

Young Wentworth nodded his head silently, in agreement.

"You're second in command now," Tavington announced blandly.

"I know Sir," Wentworth acknowledged in a tone of disappointment. "I didn't want it this way." He looked down at the ground as he felt tears sting his eyes.

"I didn't either," Tavington understandingly agreed. He put his hand on Captain Wentworth's shoulder. "Not like this." William shook his head and sighed, still unable to fathom the events of the day.

Tavington walked woefully over to the officer's gravesites, which were near a field and grove of trees. Captains Wilkins and Wentworth were there already with the priest when the colonel joined them. William was disheveled, still wearing his dirt and bloodstained uniform from the attack earlier that day. His ruffled shirt was unbuttoned and hung loose, not tucked into his breeches. The commander's hair was still down, long and loose about his shoulders, and stubble was over his jaw. The exhausted and grief stricken officer hadn't given a thought about his appearance.

Brigadier General Charles O'Hara and General Lord Charles Cornwallis joined the Dragoons at Bordon's grave giving the legion their condolences. All the men assembled there noticed Tavington's extreme grief. The dragoon leader had lost soldiers before, but was always able to stay focused military duties and matters at while keeping his emotions over death in check. They all thought he acted differently over this death, taking it hard and letting all emotion show for the world.

O'Hara noted dark circles under the Colonel's eyes and how drawn and tired his face looked. In the back of his mind, he contemplated going ahead and giving Tavington the furlough he'd requested earlier just to give the man some relief from his command. The general didn't know that Lord Cornwallis had just tried to offer him release from the battle due to injuries only two hours ago, and that Tav had refused.

More officers and Dragoons filtered to the grave. Tavington stayed next to the coffin , as if guarding his friend. One of the last to join the assembly of about fifty men was Colonel Banastre Tarleton. Some of his own Dragoons had beat him there as he had been tied up in the hospital tent checking on some of his own injured from another unrelated skirmish.

He saluted the Generals, greeted Wentworth and Wilkins, and shook hands with the Priest. Banastre then made his way to the coffin, where Tavington stood forlorn. He and Tavington embraced.

"I just got into camp and heard the news. I can't believe it's true," Ban remarked in disbelief.

"Thank you for coming, Ban," William said.

Tarleton looked into the coffin and shook his head. For a moment, he stood speechless, just looking at the fallen Bordon.

"Oh God," he sighed, still standing with Tavington. "It seems like it was yesterday when we met back in England."

Both men were silent for a moment. Ban's braveness in the face of tragedy faltered as he felt a sick feeling come over him.

"It was a lifetime ago," Tavington noted.

"He'll be missed sorely," Colonel Tarleton stated in a lost voice. His eyes began to mist over with tears. He moved away from Bordon's coffin and dabbed at his eyes with his gloved hand. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the Priest, who was raising his book to commence the Burial Rites. Ban fought the urge to look back at Bordon, still in abject disbelief that he was dead.

After a few moments, the Rite of Interment was finished and the Priest invited all present up to the coffin for a moment of last respect to their fallen comrade. Tavington, still standing close, reached into the coffin and smoothed his friend's hair back, then put his hand on his wrist and squeezed it. It unnerved him how cold Bordon felt.

Then, to the surprise of everyone, Tavington suddenly turned on his heel and walked away, numbly. Wilkins and Wentworth thought he would be the last to leave, staying from the moment the lid would be closed until the last clump of dirt would be laid.

Colonel Tarleton started after him. "Tav," he called after him. "Tav!"

William never heard him above the din in his mind. He had no desire to see the lid nailed shut on his friend, or to see him placed into the ground.

"Let him go, Colonel Tarleton," said O'Hara. "He needs to be alone."

So, mid afternoon, January 16, 1781, Major Miles Patrick Anthony Bordon was laid to rest in a quiet field in South Carolina after 31 years of life. And Colonel William Tavington walked away, leaving his friend's body there.

William no longer felt any emotion; he was a stone. For the moment, he cared about nothing. The two people he loved the most were gone from his life: Karen, alienated and lost to him, and Bordon, passed on very unexpectedly.

Tavington felt nothing. He was as dead inside as Bordon was.


	30. Chapter 30 No Redemption

CHAPTER 30 No Redemption 

'_I have long feared that my sins would return to visit _

_me, and the cost is more than I can bear.' _

_-1999, Benjamin Martin, from "The Patriot" by Robert Rodat_

No one dared bother Colonel Tavington for two hours after Major Bordon's burial, leaving him to brood alone in his tent.

Tavington had written a heartfelt letter to Bordon's family, pouring out his memories and sorrow into it, alongside praises of their son. How he ever wrote the letter was a miracle considering the condition of his being, which was in a precarious state.

His soul had been numb and cold, feeling dead inside for the last hours. Yet, his mind was awash with thoughts, memories, regrets, and fears.

William reached down into the haversack laying under his desk. His hand felt inside for his diaries which he retrieved. He layed the field diary down, and opened his personal journal to the first blank page. Taking pen from the inkwell, he began to write his rambling thoughts out onto a page that was not meant to be seen by anyone.

First he poured out his brokenness and remorse over Karen: _I miss Karen deeply and long to make things right with her. I loathe myself for what I've done to her. I don't know why I feel like I have to dominate and control things in my life. It sickens me now to think of that dreaded day when I intimidated her by force. I can't get the image of her face, her beautiful emerald eyes wide with fear and full of tears as I raped her, out of my mind. The sound of her pleading and screaming as I forced myself on her echoes through my head. Oh, God, raping her was a horrible way to claim her virtue, and a miserable way to conceive our child. _

_I am tormented to contemplate what my child will think of me should the babe ever find out of the wretched way it was conceived. What a fine mess I've made of things. My fiancée has fled in fear and resentment of me, and my child who will think me an irresponsible letch! I am no better than my own drunken, worthless Father was! _

The Colonel wrote on in his diary, next admonishing himself for Bordon's death: _I was the one who ordered the church burned with everyone inside. I am the one who executed Gabriel Martin's wife in Pembroke. By drawing Martin and his rebels out this way, the whole lot of them came after all of us, and killed many. Bordon didn't want me to give that dreaded order. He always wanted me to strive for higher ideals and better conduct, which I never did. The things I forced him to do, using and abusing my command to him, making him participate in executions, unscrupulous deeds, bad conduct, and my own wanton dealings in life—this was not his way. Leaving him to make apologies for me and my actions, and to clean up my messes. Ordering him to a lower way of life. _

William turned the page of his diary to the next clean one and made another entry, thinking of the generals: _My superiors chide me for my brutal tactics. Always on me hard to conduct myself as a gentleman. And after bringing victories to the crown and helping much to advance the English cause in this war, they have the gall to tell me the way in which I won wasn't proper. The way in which I conduct myself isn't gentlemanly. They charge me and my harshness for making the ghost into a local hero. They blame me for not being able to catch him. They point the finger at me for letting the situation get so far out of control. They tell me that it isn't that hard to find him, but that I must find and catch him their way-by their Gentleman's rules and conduct of war. I am just doing the best I can do as a soldier and trying to follow their orders, when possible. I am only doing my duty, but am slapped in the face for doing it—or not doing it well enough. It is clear to me that this is my fault. _

William concluded his journaling, dissecting himself and admitting guilt_: And, myself. I am the most miserable wretch of all. Selfish and self- centered, never thinking of those around me or what my actions or orders may cause them. My selfishness, insecurity, and need to dominate alienated my future wife causing her to flee. _

_Thinking only of myself for a few moments will possibly leave my unborn child a bastard and ostracized. My cruelness caused death and carnage about me. My own lust for glory caused me to ignore orders and defy conventions. Often, my spontaneous, hasty, or bad judgment killed many of my brave men. Anger clouded my judgment, and a short temper conquered my reasoning. _

_And, this way of life is doing me in. I am exhausted from riding and little sleep. My body aches from hours in the saddle and fighting. I am in pain from wounds received in battle. I am deeply frustrated by my superiors. The pursuit of the elusive Ghost and his antics exasperates me to no end. I am tired of commanding and being responsible for my men and this outfit. I am sick to death of it all. I miss Karen. And I miss Miles. _

William left the diary fanned open on his desk for the ink to dry. He then put his head into his hands.

Colonel William Tavington, a brilliant officer, brave soldier, talented cavalryman, dedicated leader to the Dragoons, and a decorated military man, who wanted nothing more than to serve his country, gain respect for himself, regain it for his family's name, and bring glory and honor to his country and self, had come to the end of himself. He had slipped over the edge to his breaking point.

The dam broke inside of Tavington, the range of his emotion, numbness, memories, and recent grief all rushed out and mixed together, flooding over his mind and drowning his soul in misery. All of what he had thought now mixed together in a terrible cacophony inside his head. All played out at once, and then over and over again. His head ached, his mind hurt terribly, and his soul shattered into small, irretrievable pieces.

Tavington had come unglued. He wanted nothing more than to silence this noise and emotional pain in his soul; a hurt that was not repairable by a surgeon. Life had broken his heart. William needed to quiet his tortured soul. Tavington wanted deliverance from this torment. He was lost and desperate.

William looked around his tent, not even knowing what he was looking for. Then he saw it. He saw his pistol laying on his makeshift dressing table. The officer got up from the desk and walked over to where the weapon lay. The distraught man picked it up and loaded it, scooping more load and wadding into one of his pants pockets.

He stood for a moment and stared blindly at the tent wall with the pistol in his hand. After a few quiet moments of numbness coupled with the noise in his soul, he made a decision.

_What a miserable wretch I am, he thought. I couldn't even die right— gloriously in battle. I am reduced to this coward's way out. I can't take one more moment of any of this! _

Stress had done him in. So he walked out of his tent with the pistol in his hand, not knowing where he'd end up. Once outside the tent, he walked aimlessly, staring straight ahead, not noticing anyone or hearing anything.

Colonel Ban Tarleton was talking with General O'Hara and Captain Wentworth when he noticed William had come out of his tent carrying his gun. Banastre called after him, but he didn't answer back. He went after Tavington, catching up to him near the edge of the tents. Wanting to check on his fellow commander, he gently grabbed his shoulder to get his attention.

Tavington swung around quickly and aimed the gun at Banastre's head. Then he moved the gun randomly through the crowd of the unlucky who happened to get caught around him. There were mostly soldiers, and a few women who helped in the hospital and within the camp. This brought screams from the women and gasps from the men. Wentworth and O'Hara saw what William was doing and immediately ran to where he was. Wilkins, who had heard the commotion, came running from a nearby tent as well.

Tavington was dressed in his breeches and shirt only. His ruffled and blood stained shirt, hanging loosely out over his pants, moved lightly in the breeze. His hair was still down, long and unruly. His eyes were glazed over with a look of insanity. They knew right away that extreme exhaustion, stress and grief had consumed the Colonel.

"Colonel, put the gun down," O'Hara requested.

"Get away from me!" barked Tavington in a wild voice.

"Sir, please," began Wentworth, but was cut short.

"Don't come any closer!" shouted Tavington. "I'll shoot!"

Ban started to inch forward to reason with his fellow commander. As soon as he moved, Tavington pulled the hammer back on the gun and aimed it back at him.

"Don't!" Tavington warned. "Leave me be!"

"Alright, very well," O'Hara agreed, putting his hands up. He knew he had to take some kind of control. "Step back, all of you! Step away. Let the Colonel through."

Tavington looked suspiciously at the people around him for a moment, then eyed his commander and subordinates. When everyone, including the officers cleared the area, he walked out of the tent area and into an open field. It would be dusk soon.

O'Hara looked back as over his shoulder and could see Tavington had left.

"Captain," he turned to Wentworth, "Quickly, fetch one of the Priests and bring him to me, immediately."

Wentworth scooted away as O'Hara turned and Tarleton kept an eye on Tavington from a distance. The Colonel had sat down on a boulder under a tree, still holding the gun.

In a moment, the older Priest that had performed the Last Rites for Bordon appeared with the group of officers.

"Father," O'Hara began, "one of our officers is suicidal." He pointed to the tree where Tavington was and gave him his long glass to look through.

The priest looked through it, then gave it back to O'Hara. "What has happened?"

Wentworth spoke up. "He just lost his best friend and second in command, and his fiancée recently left him."

The priest then remembered him from being at Bordon's deathbed. "What is his name?"

"Colonel William Tavington, commander of the Green Dragoons cavalry." O'Hara walked with the Priest away from the others. They walked for a few more feet to where they were out of earshot of the others when General O'Hara clasped the clergyman's forearm.

"He's battle weary, as well, Father," O'Hara said to him in a low voice.

"Oh," the priest acknowledged. He had seen this many times before and knew the sometimes devastating effect it could have on men.

He walked quietly forward to where Tavington was seated, careful not to frighten the fragile Colonel.

"My son, I am Father Patrick Hurley," said the priest in a helpful voice. "I gave the Last Rites to your friend."

"Yes, I remember," replied the Colonel, his back to the priest, not looking at him or letting go of his pistol.

"I've come to spend some time with you."

"Father, you're wasting your time with me," protested William, "Go back to the men who truly need you."

"Oh, on the contrary," countered Father Patrick, "I think I'm needed here the most right now!"

"Why? It's a lost cause. I'm a hopeless wretch of a man."

The priest shook his head. He had heard this lament from individuals in the past, and would hear it in the future. But he took each instance he heard it very seriously. After all, the Lord had put him there to help his fellow man. The minister would stay with this lost soul until he could help him find some sort of light in the dreariness.

The Priest padded cautiously around to face William. His eyes were downcast.

"May I join you, Colonel," he asked William.

"Yes." Tavington's eyes met the priest's quickly, then resumed looking down at the ground.

"Might I ask you to put down your weapon," the priest queried in a gentle voice.

"No , you may not," Tavington answered back firmly.

"Well, perhaps then, you'd like to kill yourself here now in front of me so that I may administer Last Rites to you as well?" The priest had counseled so many different types of people that he had many different approaches to try to get a person's attention.

"Perhaps," William replied.

"Well, do you want to kill yourself, or don't you?"

"I don't know," William sighed, terribly lost.

"Would you prefer to kill me?" quipped the priest, trying to get William's attention.

"I don't know."

"Then why don't you put that gun down until you are sure what you want to do with it!"

"And ruin my reputation?," William snapped back, cutting him off. "I'm a butcher. I kill everyone. Haven't you heard?" He looked up at the Priest with an irritated look in his eye.

Father Hurley was relieved to finally get some emotion out of the troubled young officer. Now he knew where to take the conversation and how to deal with the commander.

"Well, if you are a butcher and murderer, then maybe you'd like to confess now," offered the Priest.

"As you wish," he said. He would confess just to humor the clergyman.

Colonel Tavington stood up and offered his makeshift seat to the priest, who sat upon the boulder. William then knelt in front of the Priest and made the Sign of the Cross upon himself.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," he began, "I don't know how long it has been since my last confession, but since then, I have heartily offended Thee and committed the following sins."

Father Patrick made the Sign of the Cross to William, blessing him as he began.

Tavington poured out his heart, rattling off in no particular order his offenses. "I lust for total control of every facet of my life. I've massacred dozens of people. I am insubordinate. I've had innocent women and children executed. I've lied. I'm in trouble with my commanding officers. I live vainly and only for glory. I loot, confiscate, and steal. I had a church burned with innocent people in it. The husband of one of the dead townspeople came after us with a band of his men and killed many of my men. That same husband just killed my best friend, so I am responsible for my best friend and second in command's death, as well as having the other Dragoons' blood on my hands. I take risks that aren't smart and make my men do things that they wouldn't do with their own conscience. I am estranged, for the most part, from my family. I blame my late father for my financial ruin and loss of the family's good reputation and have never been able to forgive him for it. And, to add insult to injury, I stole my fiancée's virginity, made her pregnant, scared her to death with my anger, and now she is in hiding from me while carrying my child."

The Priest said nothing and let William continue. "Did I say that when I stole her innocence, I made her pregnant at the same time?"

The Priest reflected instantly on what William had said in his confession. Father Patrick thought he had meant that the man and his fiancée fornicated on a regular basis, and that is when the conception occurred.

"No, you didn't," the Priest said.

William continued on. "Oh, did I mention that I accomplished her deflowering and conception of our child when I raped her?"

The Priest was truly startled by this revelation and looked at William with widened eyes. He did not know what to say back to the officer

Tavington's eyes locked with the priest's. He smirked at the clergyman and said "No, Father, at this point, there is no hope of salvation for my damned soul."

"Are you sorry for those sins?"

"No, because I feel nothing," Tavington answered in a bland voice. He stood up and stared blankly out over the field. "My soul has turned into a stone now. And I am so very numb. You have to feel something to be sorry. But, I am as dead as the people I have killed. I don't even feel the fucking gun in my hand."

The Priest said nothing, not even shocked by Tavington's profanity. He knew this man was grieving deeply for a lost friend, and a lost love. He also understood that he was battle weary. He let William continue on, knowing it was good for him just to air things out.

"The real sin, Father," Tavington continued, "was that I couldn't control my lust for control. I could not keep myself in check and therefore, that has caused all the carnage in my life."

Tavington scoffed and shook his head. "So, if you've come to save my soul Father, you are too late. I am already condemned. There is no hope for me and no Heaven. I am condemned to Hell, and whether I commit suicide and send my mortal soul to Hell, or even if I don't kill myself, I will still be living in the Hell that I have created here in my life. Things can't get any worse than they are now! There's nothing left for me. I've alienated everyone around me from my family, to my best friend Bordon, to the woman I love. They're all gone now. And I am as alone as a soul in Purgatory. There is no redemption for me."

Father Patrick smiled to himself, then looked at William. "Well, my son, you have done some wretched things. And, you've got a lot to think about. I know you are tired. So, I suggest," the priest continued, extending an upturned palm toward Tavington, "that you go back to your tent and sleep on everything. Then, you can decide in the morning, when you're rested, if you still wish to kill yourself or not."

The corners of William's mouth crept up into a slight smile, understanding the cleverness behind the Priest's jest. His eyebrow arched up at the reverend.

"Alright, Father," William relented, surrendering the pistol into the hand of the Priest.

"You are not entirely hopeless," began the Priest standing up to see eye to eye with the commander. "The manner in which you listed your offences, as well as taking responsibility for them and admitting knowledge of how the actions have affected others is proof enough to me that there is hope for you yet. Responsibility and realization are the first steps to reconciliation. And, your willingness to confess signals that you want forgiveness."

William listened intently to the Priest, wondering how he had seen so much of his inner soul.

The Priest continued. "Colonel Tavington, I'm not going to tell you to say Ten Hail Mary's or do twenty Rosaries because that will do you no good in this case. I think your redemption will come about gradually by your own hand. You have already stated that your actions have made a mess of your life, and your penance should be to turn your life back around the right direction. Reconciliation will come slowly, if you put right what is possible to correct in your life, one thing at a time. And, you must forgive yourself, as well."

"Thank you, Father," William said.

Father Hurley left the colonel alone to think about what had been said. He walked back toward the tents, taking the officer's pistol with him, glad that the man had decided not to turn it on himself and instead, willingly give it up to someone else.

After taking a few steps, the priest called back to Tavington. "And try getting some sleep, son," the priest advised. "The world and all of life's problems can look different through a pair of well rested eyes and a refreshed mind."

Tavington realized that he had only a few more hours to hang on to duty. With 11 dragoons dead now, he knew he would be needed for tomorrow's battle more than ever. After victory tomorrow, he could rest, then begin to straighten things up in his life.

William wasn't sure how much he could take care of, but, if he could find Karen and reconcile wholeheartedly with her, it would be a step in the right direction. And, he still planned on looking for her. He vowed to himself that he would remind O'Hara of his offer for a few days furlough after this next day's battle at the Cowpens. Tomorrow or the next day, perhaps.


	31. Chapter 31 Karen's Decision

CHAPTER 31 Karen's Decision 

_If I was an eagle and had two wings for to fly _

_I would fly to his castle and it's there I would lie _

_In a bed of green ivy I would lay myself down _

_With my two folded wings I would my Love surround _

_-from "Our Wedding Day" an Irish ballad _

_Songs of the People, Sam Henry _

Since Karen had received her visit from Major Bordon, she had arrived at a decision on what to do about her situation, dwelling long and hard on the things they had talked about. Ultimately, she concluded that running away wasn't the answer. She knew in the back of her mind that if and when William really wanted to find her, he would. Strangely, she felt her time was limited there, that she would see him soon anyway.

Miss Stirhaley also thought that it wasn't fair to make her baby pay for her and William's mistakes and problems. The innocent babe deserved better: to grow up in a family and not be a bastard child. She didn't think it right to keep her child from its father, and William from his own offspring. After all, he had wanted to marry her and have a family with her.

Also, her own conscience was getting the best of her as well. Even though she had been afraid of William after the horrid thing he'd done to her, she thought she had better give him another chance. She was afraid of living with the shadow of not knowing what may have come of a chance at redemption. At least, then, if he were to raise one hand to her or do something serious, she could leave knowing she had given him another chance, or, she could stay and try to make the best of things for the sake of their child.

In her heart, she knew that duty was duty with William, and he tried not to mix it with his personal life. And, he had always treated her well, for the most part. He had been a very good, kind, loving and adoring fiancé to her. It had only been the last few times they were together that things started to slip for them. And, as she thought about it, she knew that he had been under a lot of strain lately. He'd been fighting actively in this war for five years with no break except for occasional furlough. That would be enough to make anyone tired and driven to a breaking point. Though that was no excuse for what he had done, it would explain some of his incoherent thinking and actions lately.

Karen's decision was to go back to William and forgive him. After all, this war or his duty had to end soon. Then things would be back to normal. She had great hope that they could work things out. And, William deserved to know that she was carrying his child. She hoped that he would marry her right away, before her belly would swell with the baby.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

It was late afternoon as the Pratt's wagon neared the McKinnon's estate. Miss Stirhaley could hardly contain herself as she looked out at the familiar scenery along the road. She rode with another of Laura's brothers, John, to collect the servant this evening after her house chores ended.

The room Karen left behind when she fled weeks ago had been given to another officer, so she left most of her belongings still at her cabin. She packed lightly, not knowing what to expect, not knowing where she would stay that night. Maybe William would bunk the night with Bordon and let her stay the night in his chambers until other arrangements could be made.

Then there was the matter of seeing William for the first time in weeks. Although she missed him and couldn't wait to see him, she wasn't sure what would happen. She wasn't sure how Will would receive her even though Bordon had said that he missed her and felt remorse for what he did. The girl was nervous, but still anxious to see her fiancé. She hoped William was there tonight instead of out on patrol.

As the two got closer to the estate, they could hear a lot of noise. After clearing the sentries at the perimeter, they made their way closer to the house where they could see a flurry of activity. There were soldiers running to and fro, horses being saddled up, cannons and wagons were being hitched up. On the lane up to the house, they passed rows and rows of tents, more than had ever been on the estate since Karen had been there. Obviously, a regiment was now encamped there, and they were on the move out.

Once at the main house, the two jumped down, John staying with the wagon and talking to some soldiers and Karen making her way through the confusion toward the house. At the house, she looked into both Bordon and Tavington's rooms. Their things were still there, but it was obvious their beds hadn't been slept in recently. She called through the house for Mr. or Mrs. McKinnon, but could not find them. The house was a mass of confusion as well. Officers for the infantry were at the table, which was strewn with maps. Soldiers were milling about in the halls and doorways. So she stepped outside.

At the well, she saw one of the servants that she knew and approached him.

"Mr. Terrence," she began, "Have you seen any of the Green Dragoons? Do you know where Colonel Tavington or Major Bordon are at?"

"They done went with their unit," he answered. "Been gone a few days now."

"Colonel Tarleton's regiment as well?" she asked, shouting above the din.

He told her yes and she moved on looking for one of the McKinnon's.

She didn't seem to recognize any of the soldiers or officers. She grabbed one to ask for details.

"Excuse me, do you know the Green Dragoons or Colonel Tavington," she asked. "Have you any idea where they are or when they are expected back."

"No," he answered.

"What's all the commotion here?" she queried.

"Oh. Received word that we're moving out tonight in just a little bit," he began. "Another regiment needed tomorrow for a battle. And there's been skirmishes all around, so we're getting wounded in now."

"Where is the dispatch rider," she asked, knowing he'd been the one to bring the word to gather another unit.

"Don't know, M'am," he answered. "Sorry." The man seemed to be in a hurry, excused himself and went into the hospital tent.

Miss Stirhaley was disappointed that William was out on a mission. She still had hopes of reconciling with him, it just wouldn't be as soon as she thought. The girl headed back toward the main house, deciding to leave word with one of the McKinnon's where she was and that she wanted to see William. The girl resigned herself to going back to the cabin on the Pratt plantation, sitting tight, and waiting for her fiancé to return.

As Karen neared the house, she saw Laura Pratt seated on a bench near the house. Apparently she hadn't known her brother was there waiting for her. She approached the servant to tell her they had the wagon there to take her home. But, as she moved closer, she could see Laura weeping.

"Laura," she began, touching the sobbing girl on her shoulder.

"Oh, Miss," she sobbed. "It's terrible."

"What?" asked Karen with concern for the girl who had helped her flee weeks earlier.

"Haven't you heard the rumors?"

Miss Stirhaley looked with confusion at the girl, then shook her head 'no'.

"The dragoons," the servant began. "A unit attacked early this morning. Most all the men were killed." The pretty maid sobbed again, dabbing at her tears with her handkerchief.

"Oh no," gasped Karen.

"It was Tavington's legion," Laura said. "Mr. McKinnon has the list and a letter. I only saw them briefly."

"I haven't been able to find him," she said, her voice now worried.

Karen's heart sank. She knew all those men. William had to have taken it hard. She hoped he wasn't hurt.

"Any news of William," Karen asked.

"He's alive," Laura sniffed. "Some injuries."

"Oh, thank God," Miss Stirhaley said with relief closing her eyes and sighing.

Laura cried again as she spoke. "What am I going to do?"

"What?" What do you mean?" Karen was confused. The poor girl was crying and rambling.

"I'm carrying Miles' baby," Laura sobbed, voice breaking again.

Miss Stirhaley's eyes rounded. "Does he know?"

"No," the servant answered, trying to get control of her tears.

"You have to tell him," Karen advised as she took Laura's hands in hers. She looked into the servant's eyes. "He needs to know."

"I tried to tell him before he left a few days ago," she replied. She shook her head as she continued to weep.

"Laura, he deserves to know," pleaded Miss Stirhaley. "I know that he wants to marry and have a family."

Miss Pratt could say nothing. She nodded her head in agreement with Karen as she cried.

Karen continued pleading. "He's an honorable gentleman. I know he will do the right thing and take responsibility. You must tell him."

Laura broke down completely, unable to speak for a moment. When she caught her breath, she spoke up. "I can't tell him," she said through harsh tears.

"But why?" Karen didn't understand. She thought the couple loved each other.

"Because he's dead," she blurted out, then began to sob hard.

"What?" Disbelief came over Miss Stirhaley.

"He's one of the dragoons that died," Laura cried.

Karen put her hand over her mouth and shook her head, not believing it. She felt as though she had been kicked in the gut. Then she began to cry, as well. Karen genuinely loved Bordon as a close friend

The two women embraced, both weeping hard in their sorrow. Both women sat there and wept, their arms about each other, crying on to each other's shoulders as they shared their grief. After a couple of moments, Laura went into a near panic, worried about William.

In her own sadness, Karen's thoughts suddenly turned to William. _Oh, No. William! I've got to go to him. He will need me now. Oh, God, poor William. How must he feel? Surely he is taking this hard!Miles was his best friend! I've got to get to him!_

"Oh, I've got to get to William," she exclaimed, wiping her tears from her face with her hand. "He will need me now!"

Both women cried for another moment. Then Karen pushed Laura back to look the grief stricken girl in the face. "Laura, I'm going to find William now. I will seek you out as soon as I return. Then we'll think of something to do about this together, alright?"

Laura sniffled and shook her head 'yes'.

"Take care of yourself and that baby," Karen said. She hugged the servant one last time and kissed her on the forehead.

Miss Stirhaley rose from the bench, trying to control her own tears. She frantically began searching through the chaos for a messenger.

The regiment was marching out just as she found the dispatch rider. She begged to go with him to the camp, knowing he came from where William was. She told him they may need an extra hand in the hospital tents, and that General Lord Cornwallis and Brigadier General O'Hara would know her. He reluctantly said yes. "I'm leaving momentarily, M'am. We'll be riding through the night to make it to camp in the morning."

That was fine with Karen. She just needed to get to William any way and as fast as she could.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

The wagon ride through the night from McKinnon house to upcountry where Lord Cornwallis' new camp had been established was hard and insistent in order to make time. It jostled Karen's pregnant body around with every bump and hole in the road. She ended up clutching her abdomen most of the ride, as if feeling that was the only way to protect and keep still her unborn child. The roughness of the ride had made sleep impossible.

They arrived in camp around 7:00am. She was informed that most of the men, including what was left of Tavington's legion, were already on the battlefield. Karen could hear the cannons, a sound which always shook her up, but tried to remember that William was an excellent officer and that he'd be safe.

Karen was led to Colonel Tavington's tent, where she put her things down. She would worry about sleeping arrangements later. At that point, she cared not whether she stayed in the tent and William bunked with one of the other officers, or if she and William would stay together, married or not and with the gossip. Frankly, she had missed William terribly and was already carrying his child, so what did it matter if they slept together in the same tent?

The ride had made her tired and sick. She ran out of William's tent, fell to the ground and vomited with morning sickness. Afterwards, though flushed with sickness, she shivered in the brutal winter of January. Cold and exhausted, Karen moved back into Will's tent and curled up under the covers of his cot. The blankets did not seem to warm her, and she though tired, couldn't sleep with the anticipation of seeing William soon.

She got up from the bed and left Tavington's tent. Miss Stirhaley wandered about the encampment for a few moments, trying to get up the courage to visit Miles Bordon's grave. After a few moments of aimless walking she asked one of the medics where the graves were.

Karen walked slowly and sadly around to the officer's part of the cemetery. She dragged herself drudgingly as she read aloud the names on the wooden crosses. The very last grave she came to was that of Major Miles Bordon.

Karen stood there for a moment and shuddered as she felt a chill come over her. She took a deep breath to keep her wits about her. Stepping up close to the cross, she reached out and ran her fingertips over it. She traced the engraving of Bordon's name in the wood then pulled her hand back , frozen in disbelief.

Then, she became aware of her heart pounding in her ears. Karen knelt down beside the grave, put her face into her hands, and wept hard.

"Oh, Miles," she cried. "Why?"

For a moment strangely, there was silence as if the battle had stopped. Then she heard muskets firing again.

"Miles," she began, hoping the deceased man could hear her, "I came to find William. I am going to forgive him and take him back—for the sake of our child."

Karen was quiet for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief as she stared at the simple wooden cross. "Oh, what is Will going to do without you? He needs you so much, more than he would ever admit!"

She broke down again into heavy sobs. After a minute, she calmed herself.

"Thank you for helping me," she said, her voice breaking. "Thank you for being a loyal friend to William. We will never forget you." Then, she kissed his name where it was engraved on the wood.

She stood up and wiped her face with her hand. "Things won't be the same without you here." Karen broke down again, sniffling and sobbing.

Then, she made the Sign of the Cross upon herself and bid him her final farewell. "Rest with God, Miles." She walked away, wiping at the new tears upon her cheek.

Miss Stirhaley made her way to William's quarters. Once there, despite the cold and her own sickness and grief, exhaustion finally claimed her. She collapsed upon her fiancé's cot, falling instantly to sleep.

As she slept there, Karen dreamed happily a simple dream that William had returned, found her there sleeping, laid down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Mrs. Tavington," he murmured in her ear, then placed his hand on her abdomen over where their child was growing. His hand rubbed her there gently as he whispered, "I love you, Karen." She smiled in her sleep as she rested comfortably upon Will's cot.


	32. Chapter 32 Bloodshed At Cowpens

CHAPTER 32 Bloodshed At Cowpens 

'This is my blood……..it will be shed…….. for

the remission of sins'

--From the Catholic Eucharistic prayer

Colonel Tavington sat on his horse with his cavalry of Dragoons behind him watching the battle at Cowpens intently. His wounds from yesterday ached, but he knew the pain would be hushed as soon as he got into the battle.

He took one look at the battlefield through his long glass, then put it away. He deemed it time for them to charge in and help. The commander pulled his sword from the scabbard and held it above his head.

"Prepare to charge!" Colonel Tavington ordered at a shout above the noise.

"Sir, we haven't been given the order," protested Captain Wilkins.

Tavington ignored him and screamed, "CHARGE!"

He bounded off full speed on his horse with the dragoons closely behind.

From atop another hill, Lord Cornwallis and General O'Hara sat on their horses watching the battle. Cornwallis blew his top when he saw the Dragoons charging in prematurely, as usual, against his orders.

"Tavington! Damn him," Cornwallis swore. "Damn that man!"

He turned to O'Hara. "Bayonet charge," he ordered. "We'll see who takes the glory from this field."

Tavington swung his sabre like a mad man, hacking off limbs and heads both. He could hear bullets whizzing past his ears and felt dirt and shrapnel hitting his body and uniform. He went after every rebel and Colonial regular he could find.

Then, in the midst of the battle, he spotted Benjamin Martin. He spied this as the golden opportunity to get rid of one of the Colonies' most powerful rebels. They stared each other down from across the field.

Tavington drove his heels into his horse's ribs and charged headlong toward Martin. When nearly upon him, Martin dropped to his knees and drove the flag he carried up into the chest of the officer's horse. The animal stumbled and sent Tavington flying headlong over the beast. He hit the ground with a hard thump that stunned him momentarily.

The colonel struggled to his feet and staggered around for a moment, still stunned from his rough crash to the ground. As he pulled himself back together and stood upright, his pain from yesterday seemed exaggerated and new pain from the fall shot up his legs and through his body. He gasped and shrugged it off best as he could.

Martin had loaded his pistol as the dragoon leader struggled to get his bearings. Tavington stood staring at Martin, who was aiming his gun at him. William prepared himself to get shot and was unafraid.

A shell exploded behind Martin just as he shot and this carried his aim off. The bullet tore through Colonel Tavington's upper left shoulder muscle. He winced back in pain. Then, realizing it was not a life threatening wound but yet still painful, he glared at Martin with hate in his heart.

William's mind raced and his jaw was set hard in determination. _I'm going to kill you now. With your death, your cause will die out and your followers will flee. When you're dead, Karen and my child will feel and be safe. When you die, I'll wipe the slate clean and try to be a better officer, follow orders, and tone down the brutality. After you_ _die, I'll have glory. God give me the strength now to defeat my foe. I swear that with his death, I will change and become a better man, better officer, and better leader. I will honor Bordon by upholding his nobleness and good habits. I will be a good husband to Karen and a good father to my child. God, let me defeat him! Benjamin Martin, this ends today! YOU DIE TODAY! _

William lunged forward, attacking Benjamin with his sword. Martin deflected the sabre blows with his tomahawk and pistol. Then, Martin beat Tavington backwards with chops from the ax which William blocked with his sword.

Tavington used his wrist and hilt of his sword to punch the rebel in the face and knock him back. As he did, he was able to drag the blade of the sword across Martin's chest, and knocked him to the ground. William then dropped to his knees and ripped the bayonet blade from a musket with his left hand. He prepared to spar again with Martin, sword in his right hand and bayonet point in his left.

The two foes charged at each other again, the weapons in both of their hands clanging off of each other. Benjamin Martin got close enough to Tavington to head butt him, which sent him backwards. This cut William's mouth. He soon tasted his own blood, which was filling his mouth. Martin ripped his tomahawk across Tavington and lacerated his right front shoulder. They flew at each other and their weapons locked again.

This time, William repelled Martin backwards and was able to rip his sword across the back of the militia leader's thighs, knocking the man's legs out from under him. When Martin was on the ground, Tavington knocked the tomahawk from his opponent's hands with his sword and sent the Indian weapon sailing end over end. William reared back again to swing at Martin. Benjamin blocked the blow with a musket he had picked up in desperation from the ground. When Tavington brought the sword back toward him, he cut it sharply across Martin's back, forcing him into a kneeling position facing away from Tavington.

Colonel Tavington had brought Martin down to his knees with his torturous blows from his sword. William finally had an advantage over his elusive Ghost.

Tavington wanted to make sure that the last words Benjamin Martin ever heard came from his lips. "Kill me before the war is over, will you?" he asked, mocking Martin as he recalled the Ghost's words to him at Fort Carolina.

William continued with his taunting. "It appears that you are NOT the better man!"

With this, the Colonel reared back with his sabre to deliver a heavy blow to his neck, intending to behead the rebel. Near the mid swing of his sword, William suddenly felt the worst, sharpest pain he'd ever felt in his life in the middle of his abdomen. It was so bad that it brought tears to his eyes instantly and caused him to double over. It was only then that he realized he had been stabbed and was now impaled on a bayonet!

Tavington's mind spun itself around with the realization that he might die and what he could do to prevent his death. As his mind reeled, the pain in his stomach had become horribly searing and his limbs felt like they were on fire. All he wanted to do at that point was get himself free of the weapon.

He tried to raise his arms to grip the bayonet to attempt to push himself up off of it, but found all the strength drained from his limbs. The new bullet wound in his left bicep seemed to throb even harder now. William found it hard to catch his breath, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. His heart raced.

Then Benjamin Martin grabbed William's collar to steady him. This pulled him ever so slightly up on the bayonet. As it sawed another gash into his flesh and innards, he gasped. Tavington's eyes then met Martin's. The pain of loss and war were in both men's eyes.

"You're right," Martin remarked. "My sons were better men!"

As vindication for Tavington's cruelty to the Colonials, Martin plunged a dagger into William's throat, causing him to gasp and release a rush of air. Just as quickly, Benjamin pulled the knife back out with no cry from William. The slice had left him unable to speak or breathe properly. Martin turned and went, leaving Tavington impaled limply upon the instrument.

William knew he was dying.

Desperately once again, he tried to lift his arms and push up with his legs to get himself off the bayonet. All his limbs now felt heavy and cumbersome. William felt as though his head was going to pop. His heart beat like a loud drum in his ears. He couldn't cry for help and he struggled to breathe. Blood soon rushed from his mouth. He was suffocating.

A shell suddenly exploded yards away from him and the percussion knocked him to the ground. He lay there on his side in a semi-fetal position, the bayonet still stuck in his belly. He couldn't move.

He strangely felt as though he was paying for his brutality with his own lonely, excruciating, and agonizing death.

William knew that he was helpless. He opened his eyes and saw the battle all around him. He heard the cannons and muskets along with his own gasps and heartbeat. The man closed his eyes for a moment, wanting a respite from blood and battle.

Memories of his life sped through his mind at breakneck speed. Thinking of Karen stopped the memory flow and focused his thoughts on her. Tears streamed out of his eyes at the horrible physical pain he suffered, and at the emotions he felt. He was alone, and for once in his life, afraid.

Poor William wanted Karen desperately! He wanted her there to hold him and make his pain go away, as she had done before. He had so much to tell her; so much left to do with his life. He could not cry out because of his wound, but a voice inside of him screamed uncontrollably.

Only a few moments earlier, William had prayed to God to give him the strength to defeat his foe in battle. Now, he prayed to live as he clung desperately to what life he had left. _Oh God no! Please! I am not ready to leave yet! I want my Karen. I want to marry her. I want to be a father to my child. Oh God. I can't leave her with a baby! I've got to take care of them-both of them! I want to tell her that I love her and that I am so sorry. I want to make things up to her. I want to put things right between us! _

Will's mind moved even faster as he prayed desperately. _I want to see her face and kiss her lips. I want to hold her naked body. I want to make love to her as a proper husband. I want to wake up with her in my bed. I want to grow old with her. I want to make a home with her. I want to make her so happy! Please don't take me away from her yet! I want the chance to see her again! I love her so much! Lord, please don't let me die! _

Strangely, Tavington's pain started to ease. His labored breathing and heartbeat slowed. He could no longer hear the battle around him. It became too hard for him to open his eyelids.

But, William knew his pleading was futile. It was a matter of moments or seconds. He wanted to cry out to Karen. So, he cried out in his mind as best as he could with the last thoughts he would ever have. _Karen, I love you. I have missed you so much. Please forgive how I have treated you. Please be brave without me! Please take care of our child! I wish you were here so that I could die in your arms. Oh Karen. Just know that your William loves you…….more…….than….. more…..loves………forgive……Karen….miss.... _

Colonel Tavington was no longer thinking coherently. It took energy that he did not have. He was aware that he had stopped breathing. William could no longer feel his body and could hear only a faint beating which he thought was his heart.

Then, a moment after he drew his last breath, his heart stopped beating. He slipped into nothingness. He could not see-everything was dark now. Colonel William Tavington, after 30 years of life, left the world, his unborn child, and his beloved Karen behind…. and died alone on the battlefield.


	33. Chapter 33 The Bitter End

**NOTE: PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO GO TO A WEBSITE CALLED "DEVIANT ART" TO VIEW AN ILLUSTRATION BY KELLY RAINE/DEVIANTART OF A SCENE FROM THIS TAVFIC. IT IS AN EXCELLENT, BEAUTIFUL RENDERING! This will not let me put a link in, so just type "Deviant Art" into your search engine, once you get to the website search for "Lepipsqeak" and view all the artist's work and you will see a rendering of Tavington and Karen Stirhaley from this story. I believe also if you type "you can't go you can't" into the search on the website, it may also bring up the picture.**

CHAPTER 33 The Bitter End 

_Then I dreamt last night that my true love came in _

_So softly he came in that his feet made no din _

_My True Love he spoke and to me he did say _

_It won't be long now, love, 'til our wedding day _

_-from "Our Wedding Day" an old Irish Ballad _

_lyrics from Songs of the People, Sam Henry_

Karen Stirhaley awoke in the afternoon to clamoring and commotion outside the tent. She heard wagon wheel, horses, men shouting and the pained groans of the wounded coming from the hospital tent. But she heard no gun or artillery fire. A good sign. The battle was over and William would be coming to camp soon!

She jumped off the cot and hurried out the door, refreshed from her sleep and excited to finally see her beloved William. The young woman raced around the camp looking for Colonel Tavington and the Dragoons. She could not find a sign of them.

After a while, she saw the Generals entering the camp, riding in with their color guard. Karen ran to where they dismounted to greet them. She tried to keep her panic in check as she questioned the surprised officers. O'Hara and Cornwallis had heard the rumors that she and Tavington had 'fallen out', and they hadn't seen her with him at officer functions recently. They were surprised indeed to see her there.

They told her that all the regiments hadn't come back in from the battlefield yet, and that William's unit may still be out there. She let them get on with their work as she went into the hospital tent to offer her services.

Karen came across a wounded Colonel Ban Tarleton in the was not seriously injured, but had to be tended to nonetheless. Banastre did his best to answer her questions while being attended to. He told her that he had last seen Tavington when the two cavalry units split up to charge onto the battlefield but lost track of him after that.

She continued to work in the hospital tent all the while looking for William. Karen volunteered happily to get the clean water for the surgeons, using it as an opportunity to leave the tent to see if William had come back yet as she was outside.

A little bit later as she was fetching things for the medics in the hospital tent, she saw Major Wentworth and Captain Wilkins ride up and dismount outside of the Generals' tent. She could not go to them immediately as she was holding a patient up for a doctor who was binding his ribs. Her heart sang, though, knowing that William could not be far behind them. As soon as she was finished, she ran from the tent to find the two dragoon officers.

Miss Stirhaley found the two of them talking to some of the regular army officers. They were very surprised to see her there. The last day that they'd seen her was over 2 months as she had fled Tavington and they caught her running from her coach. They remembered how firm Tavington had been with her that day, and what Major Bordon had warned them all about.

"Captain," she called excitedly, unaware that her fiance had recently brevetted Wentworth to a Major, "Where is Colonel Tavington?"

Wilkins and Wentworth looked at each other, taken aback and not knowing what to say.

"Uh…..he's here," Wentworth stammered, "I'll…..uh….take you to him." Wilkins gave him a confused look, which Karen saw.

_Oh No, she thought. William's hurt. But he's here, though. That is all I wanted. No matter how badly he's hurt, I'll help him get through it. He'll recover. He's been hurt before. He's strong! _

She happily followed Captain Wentworth, her heart skipping as she did. Karen was so relieved and happy to be seeing Will that she could hardly contain herself.

As they neared one of the large hospital tents, they ran into General O'Hara.

"Where are you going," he questioned Wentworth.

"She asked to see Colonel Tavington," he answered. "She was looking for him."

O'Hara felt the young officer's uneasiness and sensed correctly that he hadn't been able to inform her of the horrible news.

"Major , why don't you meet us in the tent," he began. "I'd like to talk with Miss Stirhaley for a moment."

The young man complied and went into the tent.

O'Hara put his hand on the young woman's back as he led her into the tent. She looked around. This tent was quiet, not much activity. She spotted a young priest giving Last Rites to a soldier.

The General turned to face her, taking both of her hands, sandwiching them between his own in a comforting gesture. Karen was confused. She looked around, watching for William to join the two of them.

"Miss Stirhaley," O'Hara began slowly, "I am sorry to have to tell you this. But, William sustained horrible injuries this morning. He was thrown from his horse, then shot in the arm. After that, he took a bayonet stab in the abdomen and his throat. He died shortly after that. They brought his body here from the battlefield."

Karen was even more confused. She wasn't sure she had heard O'Hara right. She shook her head.

"Wait a minute," she began sounding overwhelmed, "Did you just say that William is dead?"

"Yes, Miss," he answered. "Killed in the battle."

Tears came to her eyes as she shook her head. "That can't be. I want to see him."

O'Hara led her over to a cot in a section for the dead officers. Wentworth was already standing there. He pulled back a bloodied sheet to reveal Tavington's lifeless body.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. Then she let out a horrible scream and fell to her knees next to the cot.

"Oh, God No! William! Oh No!" she cried. Karen felt her world crash down around her and was aware of nothing else but William's body. She buried her head on his chest and wept uncontrollably.

After a moment, she pulled back from him and looked at his face as she cried. She was beside herself to see his face contorted in pain, yet strangely peaceful, like the ease one feels when letting go of something; the peace that is felt when a burden is lifted from one's shoulders.

William's eyes, which always stared intently and penetrated men's souls, were now frozen over into an emotionless stare. His lips were parted slightly. His skin was smudged with gunpowder, dust, and dirt. Within the dirt on his face, tears had made clean little trails from the corners of both eyes down the side of his face into his hair, and down the front of his cheeks. This made her heartache so, for knowing that he had died alone on the battlefield was torment enough, but to see that he had wept as he died with no one to comfort him was too much.

Karen began to feel sick and weak all over. General O'Hara and Major Wentworth could see the girl going pale and sensed that she was about to faint. O'Hara steadied. Both officers tried to get her to come with them momentarily away from Will's corpse long enough to let the shock sink in, but she refused to leave. She convinced both men that she would be alright if they would just let her stay on the ground next to the cot.

Her heart broke knowing that she had just missed him this morning. She felt a heavy guilt at not being with him to comfort him over Bordon's death, and not being with him as he had died. He told her once that he wanted to die in her arms.

Karen pulled the sheet back farther to reveal his blood stained abdomen. She saw blood on his left, upper arm and various slashes with blood across his uniform. She stroked his cheek, his skin feeling cool. She wept as she smoothed back his hair.

The young woman reached down and drew his lifeless shape into her arms. She pulled his limp, heavy body up with much effort and held him against her. She kissed his cheek, and then the side of his head in his hair. She put her lips to his ear and she sobbed.

"Oh William, please don't do this," she whispered. "You can't go yet. You can't!"

O'Hara motioned to Wentworth to step back and give her some privacy.

"William, I forgive you," she murmured to the dead officer, "I want you back. I want us to be a family. Oh God, you can't die, William! I am pregnant."

She still cried so hard. "I'm going to have our child."

"Oh, God, no, William!" Her hand smoothed his hair in back, and her fingers toyed with his queue, disheveled and partially unwrapped, binding dangling on his shoulder.

"William, please no!" She begged in a subdued, tear wracked voice of desperation, thinking insanely that pleading would somehow bring him back to life.

After holding him a little while longer, she laid him back and sat with him awhile. She held his hand as she continued to sob.

Karen could not believe that things had ended this way. She had wanted another chance for she and William. She desperately wanted him to know he was going to be a father. She had wanted him to know that she was sorry for leaving abruptly without word.

As she looked into his azure blue eyes one last time she could see that they were frozen in time. She longed to see the look of love for her in his eyes that she had seen so many times before. The girl wished she could see his eyes looking impishly back at her when she admonished him playfully for being mischievous. She wanted to see the look of happiness in those eyes when she filled him with joy and to see the softness in them when he smiled. She remembered how his eyes sparkled at her when they first met and courted. She recalled that he smiled more then. Karen even wanted to see the intensity in them, when he was thinking of battle or upset with something. She had never seen his eyes lifeless like this, even in the worst despair she had witnessed from him. With her hand, she closed them, never to see eyes that blue again.

Karen buried her face in his injured arm. Her body was wracked with sobs as she was full of regret. She would never hear his deep voice again. She would never be able to feel safe and secure in the refuge of his arms. She would never know what it was like to be Karen Tavington, his wife. She couldn't seem stop her flow of tears.

After a few more moments, she rose to her feet, still sniffling, and got the attention of an older priest who was just entering the tent. It was Father Patrick Hurley, who performed Bordon's funeral the day before.

She introduced herself as the dead officer's fiancée and asked him to anoint the body and perform the Last Rites. He looked at William and recognized him right away. He then told Karen that he had been the officiant at Bordon's funeral the day before , and at how touched he was by William's feelings for his dead friend.

Immediately following the Last Rites, the priest spent a few minutes with Karen, counseling her. He then shook hands with General O'Hara and Captain Wentworth and left. Karen wanted to remain a little longer with William, so O'Hara and Wentworth stayed with her at her request.

They told her about the events of the day before, about Miles and William and how he had brought Bordon to camp and tried to save his life, but left out Tavington's attempt to annihilate himself with his own gun. Things were bad enough now, they figured, and that she didn't need to know about that unpleasantness.

Soon, some orderlies came to ready the Colonel's body for burial. Karen gently protested, stating that she wanted to clean his body up. For her, it would be a sort of last act of love. O'Hara and Wentworth offered to help, but she declined graciously, saying she wanted to do it alone, spending the last few moments with him by herself. Captain Wentworth stayed nearby in the tent.

Water and washcloths were brought to her. Before removing his uniform, she went back to his quarters to see if she could find another uniform as William sometimes carried an extra with him, space permitting.

As she rifled through his things, she could not find one. Karen looked for a clean shirt, as the one he was wearing was stained with his blood. She saw one hanging over a chair. She grabbed it and held it up. She noticed it had a hole and some slashes in it, that had outlined his wounds and were stained with blood. She took the shirt with her as it was in better condition than the one he was wearing when he died.

Back at the hospital tent, she took off his jacket, vest, cravat, and shirt and began to lovingly wash the blood from his torso. His abdomen and chest were finely and muscularly sculpted. She had always admired his upper body on the few occasions she had seen him without a shirt. His shoulders were well defined from swinging heavy swords. She traced the outline of his chest, shoulders, biceps, and stomach with her fingers.

Karen unwrapped the bandage that had been bound tightly about his waist from his bullet injury when his unit was ambushed at the creek the day before. Then, she stopped for a moment after she had unbound that dressing. She looked at his bullet wound and the swelling and bruising about it. Karen thought about the battle this morning and could only imagine that his agility, movements, and speed must have been somewhat hampered by his previous day's injuries. The woman wondered if he had felt the pain of his wounds as he fought, or if the adrenaline coursing through his blood had numbed it temporarily. She began to sob again, but kept on at her task with lovingness.

As she resumed cleaning him, her fingers would stop occasionally to trace the outlines of the fresh wounds, wincing herself at how terrible his pain must have been. Tears streamed down her face as she thought of this. She studied his fresh shoulder wounds: a sabre slash on the right and a bullet on the left. She wondered how, even though he was a strong man, that he was able to lift and swing his heavy sword with both shoulders wounded.

Still, Karen continued on through her tears. She wiped the grime and blood from his face. She kissed his cheek and forehead, which she loved to do when he was alive. Then she put the shirt on he'd worn the day before as the other was saturated with blood. She put his bloodstained vest and jacket with slashes in it back on him and buttoned them up smartly.

She called for Major Wentworth's assistance. He held Tavington upright as she tied his cravat, as she had done times before. As he continued to hold William's body up, she unbound her fiancé's hair, cut three locks of it: one for herself, another for their child, and a third to give to his family in England. Then, she swept it back tightly, smoothing the stray hairs, and braided it. She then wrapped the queue with the black cloth that the officers wore. Wentworth helped her to lay him back, then left her alone again with her fiancé.

She closed her own tear filled eyes, which only squeezed more tears out onto her cheeks. Karen shook her head and sobbed.

"Oh, William, William," she lamented. "Oh Why?" She held both his hands, which felt so cold, in hers for one last time before gloving them. She folded his arms up and placed his hands atop each other on his chest. She then pressed his rosary, which she'd found in his tent, into his hand and twisted it around his palm so that the crucifix displayed itself outside of his fist.

She kissed his temple, then his lips. "I love you," she said tearfully. "I forgive you."

Karen continued on, her voice soft and breaking. "I hope you find Bordon, there where you are, and I hope you will forgive me for running away from you."

Miss Sitrhaley covered her face with her hands and cried hard again, not wanting to let him go. "I wish you could be here to see our child."

She was trying to compose herself. "I hope you find rest from your duties and the strain of this war."

This was so hard for her. Karen knew she had to let go of him. "Oh, God, William! I don't want to live without you and I don't know how I will!" She laid her head on the cot again and wept, then continued. "I'll have to find a way to, for our baby."

Karen kissed his lips a last time, then left the tent.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Late in the afternoon, Lord Cornwallis, General O'Hara, Major Wentworth,Captains Kidwell and Wilkins gathered with Karen Stirhaley for Colonel Tavington's Burial Rites. An injured Banastre Tarleton attended, tears streaming from his eyes at having lost two comrades in two days, as well as several Dragoons. A few of the remaining dragoons that weren't injured badly were in attendance also.

Before the funeral, General O'Hara gave Karen the Saint Christopher medal that she had given William many years ago. O'Hara had retrieved it from his body when it was initially brought into the camp.

During the funeral, a distraught Karen broke down completely and wept uncontrollably. General O'Hara held her as she did. She buried her face in his jacket as she sobbed and clung tightly to him. Her fists were full of the red wool material of his uniform coat, her knuckles white as she gripped so tightly. Poor O'Hara could do nothing but steady her as she stood and let the poor woman cry. He accompanied her to William's coffin, where she touched her dead fiance's face one last time, kissed his forehead, cheek, and lips, and whispered to him.

"William, good bye darling," she murmured. "I love you so much."

O'Hara helped her away from the casket, unable to stop her weeping. The officer escorted her back to William's tent to sleep, sensing she felt weak and supporting her all the way. She wished to see no one. He left her alone there.

Karen Stirhaley laid down on William's cot, buried her face in his pillow, and could smell his scent on it. She pulled the two heavy blankets up around her chin, but was still cold. She longed to feel William's body next to hers in his cot. The young woman pined for his arms, wanting them around her now, protecting her, comforting her, keeping her warm. She soon cried herself to sleep.

And that was January 17, 1781. Colonel William Tavington, commander of His Majesty's Green Dragoons Cavalry, was killed in the battle of Cowpens. He was laid to rest in a field, a few graves down from his closest friend Major Miles Bordon, near sunset of that same afternoon.


	34. Chapter 34 Farewell From An Officer

CHAPTER 34 Farewell From An Officer

_June 1781………………… _

Karen Stirhaley sat in her rocking chair in her small cabin. Her lap was full of a huge quilt she was sewing. She had been too tired today to wrestle the monster of a blanket into its frame to sew on it.

There was a knock at the door. She was expecting someone from Laura's family to check in on her, as they usually did around lunchtime every day. Lap full and unable to rise, she called to the door.

"You may enter. It's unlocked," she cried in a gentle voice.

Karen looked up as the door opened. She was surprised to see Brigadier General Charles O'Hara standing before her, dashing as usual in his uniform, leaning on a cane.

"Miss Stirhaley," he greeted her with a smile.

"Why, General O'Hara, so nice to see you," she exclaimed. "I apologize for not answering the door. I am buried alive in this quilt." She stopped sewing and began to push the bulky thing aside.

O'Hara stopped her. "Oh, no no. Please continue. I'll only be a moment anyway."

"Please, sit down," she asked cordially. "Pull that chair over here next to me."

General O'Hara smiled and complied with her wish. He soon joined her, seated close by.

She picked her needle back up and began stitching again. "What brings you here, General?"

"I just came to tell you we are moving to North Carolina and Virginia today."

"Oh…….I see," she stammered, showing some disappointment.

He paused for a moment because he was nervous. The general had come to tell her goodbye. But, he also wanted permission to correspond with her. He had always been fond of her, and, now that Tavington was gone, he wondered if she might fancy the idea of a courtship with him. The officer wanted to ask her, badly. But, wanted to be sensitive to the fact that she might still be hurting from William's death. He made small talk.

"You're working on that quilt again," O'Hara said with a smile. He leaned over closer to admire her handiwork.

"Yes! It's nearly finished. It will be cold this winter and I could use a heavier coverlet!"

She stood up and dropped the quilt, displaying the full length of it in front of her. O'Hara looked at it and touched it. He thought it was very beautiful and that she truly had done a fine job on it.

After a moment, Karen lowered the quilt down to fold it. She decided to stop working on it and would put some tea on for her guest. But she saw O'Hara's eyes widen in an obvious manner. She knew he had glimpsed her very pregnant belly and could tell he was stunned.

O'Hara quickly realized he was gaping at her and snapped himself back to a manner of class. He had not known of her condition and was shocked.

"It's William's child," she said gently. "It happened the last day I ever saw him before he died. He never knew that I was carrying his baby." Karen still had not known that Will had intercepted her letter home to her parents months ago and did indeed know of her pregnancy.

She put her hand on her swollen belly and smiled. "It's only a matter of days before the newest little Tavington will be here. Part of William's legacy."

There was a silence as O'Hara knew not what to say. He knew that his position as far as courtship now with her would have to be re-evaluated.

"Do you need anything," he asked her with much concern and sensitivity.

"I need for William to be alive and be a father to his child," she said wistfully.

He sighed and nodded. With those words, he knew he'd have no chance with her. O'Hara could tell that she was very hung up over Colonel Tavington. He thought about things further.

O'Hara went as far as to relent and tell himself that he could be a father to Tavington's baby. After all, even though a child may not have the same blood, a child would look up to whoever raised him or her as a father. The child would need a good father, which he knew he could be.

On the other hand, he could tell by the longing in her words that he would always be second fiddle to Tavington, even with him dead. So, he deemed it a futile effort to pursue a woman still hopelessly in love with her slain fiancé. He couldn't fight Tavington's ghost.

He scrapped the idea of asking to write to and eventually court her. But he did so with much disappointment.

General O'Hara stood up slowly with the aid of his cane, feeling awkward, not knowing what else to say. He decided it was best to leave.

"Well, I need to get back and finish packing," he bade.

"I'll walk you out," Karen said with a smile.

As the two arrived at the door, Laura Pratt met them there with a wrapped bundle in her arms.

She looked genuinely surprised to see the officer. "Oh, General O'Hara," she said as she curtsied. "It's very nice to see you again."

"Miss Pratt," he replied with a bow of his head. "I've missed seeing you when I visit McKinnon House."

"Thank you sir," Laura answered warmly. "I miss all I've met there, but am needed here at home."

There was a moment of silence, then the former servant spoke again. "General, I understand that you nearly died in the spring. It was dreadful to hear of it."

"Which time?" he asked. "I nearly died twice. At the beginning of February, I was leading a unit across a river when a rebel shot my horse. The beast went down into the water and took me with it. We rolled together for yards with the current, the thing dragging me along. I finally got loose and swam to shore."

"I hadn't heard of that time," Miss Stirhaley remarked. "I thought you had been hurt in a battle."

"Yes," the general replied. "We were in North Carolina near Guilford Courthouse. I was hurt in the chest and the thigh, hence the aid of this cane. Surgeon didn't think I would make it. As a matter of fact, I just got on my feet within this past week. I'm glad to be around again."

"It's splendid to see that you're alright," Laura commented. She changed the subject as she turned to Miss Stirhaley. "Karen, would you please stay with the baby while I help father in the East field?"

"Certainly, with pleasure," Karen replied with a smile as she took the bundle from Miss Pratt's arms.

Laura turned back to the officer. "It's been a pleasure to see you, General."

"Well, I came to tell Miss Stirhaley farewell as we are moving North. Might I have the pleasure of saying goodbye to you as well?"

"Yes sir," said Laura with a blush.

"Goodbye Miss Pratt," he said, taking her hand and kissing it politely.

"Goodbye, General," she said with a curtsy. She quickly hurried away.

There was silence for another moment, then Karen spoke up.

"Another of your esteemed officers has left a legacy, as well," Miss Stirhaley announced. With that, she parted the bundle she held to reveal a young baby.

'Oh?" asked the General.

"Yes," she said. "This baby is Major Bordon's child."

O'Hara leaned in closer, curious to get a look. The baby was looking about quietly. He noticed a tuft of light red hair.

"Please allow me to introduce you to Miss Fiona Bordon Pratt."

For the second time in only a few moments, General O'Hara was shocked. He spoke, stammering as he did. "I didn't know that the major and Miss Pratt….."

"There courtship was kept a secret. He was afraid his aristocratic parents wouldn't understand."

O'Hara took a second look at the babe, smiling as he did.

"She's 3 months old," Karen explained. "See. She has his hair," she said, her fingers running over the strawberry blonde hair on the baby's head.

"Yes," he agreed, then changed the subject. "I know that Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon and myself sometimes had our differences and difficulties. But, I want you to know that they were good officers of the best caliber, and how very sorely they are missed and needed."

"Thank you, General," Miss Stirhaley replied sincerely. "It does my heart good to hear you say that."

"Let me put her down and I will rejoin you," she said. With that Karen took baby Fiona into her cabin and laid her in the cradle that her own baby would soon be using. O'Hara watched her with a sigh as she did .

Soon, Karen was back at the General's side. She took the arm he offered her.

Even though he decided against wooing her, he was still concerned over her predicament. Pregnant, alone in a cabin, no husband. What could he do to help?

"Are you safe out here," he asked her.

"Yes. I keep William's revolver loaded and near me. I know how to use it."

"Very well, then," replied O'Hara. He turned and walked to the door. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," she replied. He stepped through the door.

"Oh, General, hold on," she shouted suddenly and shot back into the cabin.

He waited by his horse for a moment as she ran back out with something in her hand.

"I'd like you to have this," she remarked, pressing a dainty embroidered handkerchief she had made into his hand. "This is to thank you for all the kindness you've shown me these years."

"I can't accept this," he said, eyeing the thing. "You've put a lot of time and effort into this. You should keep it or give it to your family."

"No. I insist," she replied, handing it back to him, pushing it back into his possession. "At least keep it to remember your time in the colonies."

"Thank you," he answered, shakily. He was very flattered that she wanted him to have such a fine thing. "I shan't forget you. I always thought Colonel Tavington a lucky rogue for getting you!"

"Thank you," she replied. "That's very kind of you!" She blushed.

"You're handiwork was always fine……and I admire it," O'Hara remarked, still eyeing the cloth.

There was an awkward silence between the two. Then, O'Hara broke the quiet.

"Well, goodbye Miss Stirhaley—"

"Please, General, I'd like to hear you call me, just once, by my Christian name,"she requested.

He complied. "Goodbye Karen. It's been a pleasure having your company all these years," he said.

"I feel the same Charles," she added.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to her hand. She nodded. He then took her hand gently, and kissed it as a gentleman would.

"I shall miss you," he said.

"General, if I may," she asked. He smiled and nodded. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. This made him blush slightly and his eyes sparkle.

"For all your many kindnesses, I'm flattered," Karen began, "also, for other reasons as well. But, I shan't ruin your reputation."

He had mounted his horse and was looking down at her. "I think you're worth it." The officer touched the brim of his hat with his fingers, tipping it ever so slightly to her.

"I may have been, but I'm not now," she replied, resting her hand on her swollen belly. "Have a safe trip, Charles."

"I hope we shall meet again someday," he said.

"Me too!"

Miss Stirhaley waved to him and smiled as he left. She felt the same fondness for him that he had felt, but did not have any romantic notions toward him. Perhaps if she had met him before William……….


	35. Epilogue

EPILOGUE Memories And Regrets 

_June 1781 through June 1784…_

At the end of June 1781, months following Colonel Tavington's death and just days after General O'Hara's visit, Karen gave birth to her child. She named him William Miles Tavington Stirhaley, after his father. She so wished to make his sir name Tavington, after his father, but that could not be. She lamented often that Colonel Tavington had not lived to see his boy. But, her son would bring her much joy and was the only thing that would keep her mind focused and away from dwelling incessantly on the Colonel. Laura Pratt attended and helped with Miss Stirhaley's birth and laying in period the same as Karen had done for her when she gave birth to Bordon's daughter.

Earlier in the spring of 1781 just weeks after Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon had died, Karen had both fallen men exhumed and their bodies moved from the encampment near the Cowpens battlefield. She wanted both men buried next to each other, and closer to where she was. Miss Stirhaley did this with her own money. The officers were reburied in the churchyard adjacent to the Pratt plantation, just a short walk away. She was happy to have them in 'a proper church cemetery' close by so that she, Laura, and the officers' children would have a place to go to remember and honor them. Karen had proper gravestones chiseled with all relevant information and placed, and each man's body had been rescued from the pine box coffins they were initially placed in. Both officers now rested in elaborate caskets, honorable and fitting of their aristocratic positions in life. Karen and Laura visited both graves often with their children, adorning them with beautiful flowers. Little William seemed to enjoy placing twigs on his father's grave, which made Karen chuckle.

Will, as his mother Karen called him, had the same facial features as his father, and was crowned with his mother's brown hair. Little Will also bore his father's temperament, showing the same anger and impatience his father had possessed. The child's ice blue eyes even flashed the same as the Colonel's when he was mad. Karen tried to teach him patience and kindness, but could not quite quell all of Tavington's harshness out of the little one. But, that was fine with Karen for it was one of the only parts of Tavington left to live on.

Karen continued to stay on in the cabin she had fled to, renting it from Laura's family. She made ends meet on a stipend received monthly from her parents. She worked in the fields and orchards alongside Laura's family members and slaves. Often as she worked, should would stop for a moment and watch her son as he played carefree on the grass darting to and fro.

His frequent playmate was a little girl of nearly the same age with strawberry blonde hair: Fiona, Bordon and Laura's little girl. Karen and Laura were glad that their children would grow up together and be friends, same as William and Miles had been. The two women agreed to keep the memories of the children's fathers alive by imparting stories of the two officers to their children.

Little William made Karen smile and helped her to continue this new life—one that wasn't so easy without a husband to help her. She made the best of things and didn't complain. But, she missed William Tavington terribly, and ached for him- especially at night after her son fell to sleep.

Her parents, siblings, and family back home had not totally excluded her. She was still part of the family, but they told no one in England the truth—just that "she had decided to stay on living in the colonies after William's death." They told her they would support her monetarily if she would stay there and not return to England. Once, during a visit from her parents, she had finally steeled her nerve enough to state that she wanted to return to England, for the sake of her son. She wanted Will to have good schooling and a good start in life. Maybe he could even be a soldier in His Majesty's Army. But, her parents discouraged this, saying that it wasn't a good idea for the reputation of the family or any of its individuals—including she and Will—for her to return. She never approached the idea again.

~/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/~

Now, June of 1784 and three and a half years since Colonel Tavington died at Cowpens in January 1781, Karen was sitting at the bedside of her son, who had taken ill with influenza. It was 1:00am in the morning and the summer night's air was hot and thick with no breeze.

The doctor had been out earlier in the day to check on the child, who had now contracted pneumonia. Little Will's fever was very high and his breathing was shallow and labored. Karen had been up with him for the last 72 hours, with no sleep. She was desperately trying to break his fever with cold compresses.

She left his bedside for a minute to fetch a glass of ice water. Upon her return, she sat in the bed with him and lifted his hot, limp body into her lap. Then she coaxed his head back for a sip of ice water, but held the drink back while he coughed weakly. As she tried to lift the glass again to his lips, she saw his chest rise as he sucked in a big breath and held it. Then she watched his chest fall slowly as he exhaled, hearing the rattles and wheezes with it.

As Karen brought the glass to his mouth again, she watched and listened to his breathing. A moment passed and he hadn't taken a breath. She put the glass on the nightstand and watched his chest. It did not rise or fall. She put her cheek against his lips, but could feel no breath. The young woman laid him back on the bed and put her ear to his chest. She could not hear his strong little heart beat. She touched an artery on his neck, and felt no pulse.

She stood up from the bed for an instant, in disbelief that little Will had just died. Karen covered her mouth with her hand as if to stifle her own cry. She stared at his little body for a few moments, praying silently for this not to be true, watching for him to move again. Then she burst into tears and sank down to her knees at the bedside, her face buried in the blanket on the bed as she bawled, touching his arm the whole time.

After a few moments, she crawled onto the bed ,clasped little Will to her and wept uncontrollably. Minutes later, she got up from the bed, taking her child's body with her, holding him tightly to her, still crying hard while she paced aimlessly around the cabin.

When Karen could pace no more, she went to her rocking chair, the same one she had rocked her son to sleep and nursed him in, and sat down. Still, she held his lifeless body against hers, rocking him senselessly, and sobbing all the while she did.

Over an hour later, her sobs had calmed to a quiet sorrow and numbness. As she held her son in her arms, she clasped his hand and looked for some serenity and peace on his face. Instead, she found the same contorted death mask that Colonel Tavington had worn shortly after he died. There was no look of serenity, only pulled and strained features of a life left unresolved and snuffed out far too quickly.

It was now about 3:00am, nearly two hours since her son's life had ended. With her crying stopped for the moment, she put her little boy's body gently on the bed and went to her desk. She wrote brief letters to her family and Laura to inform them of his death. Karen, who was still dressed from earlier in the day, wrapped her son in a blanket, picked up William's Dragoon weapons(she usually carried his loaded pistol with her for protection wherever she went) and left her cabin. She walked by the moonlight quietly toward the neighboring churchyard still carrying her son's lifeless body.

Once in this familiar, quiet cemetery, she strode instinctively to William's grave. She laid her dead child down on the grass on top of Colonel Tavington's burial place, and placed William's sheathed sword, pistol, musket, and dagger next to him. She then sat down herself, her fingers touching his headstone and tracing the letters on it as she had done countless times before. She would sometimes talk to the Colonel at his grave, if only to make herself feel better. But she had no words to say this time, nor the strength to talk.

As she sat, she was amazingly calm with no tears. Memories flooded to her as she rested there. Karen remembered the day she met William. She remembered his kiss and his touch, and how his strong, tall body felt to her as she would cling to him. She recalled how protected he often made her feel. She reflected on how good he was to her, and how he seemed to have a little more patience and tolerance for her than he did for anyone else. She could hear his deep, rich voice saying her name and how sweet that sounded. She remembered and missed most those beautiful, deep blue eyes of his. Eyes that she thought she would drown or get lost in. Eyes that were capable of piercing all men's souls.

But, her happy memories were soon choked by sorrow and regret. She thought about the last weeks they were together, and William's temper becoming worse due to battle fatigue and strain. Karen remembered how he'd raped her and stolen her virtue. The woman regretted now that she had run from William and subsequently spent the last precious weeks of his life apart.

Even though Tavington's assault on her was a painful memory, that fleeting union in rage had brought forth the joy of a son. She recollected being alone and sick in the cabin when she was pregnant, wishing he was there to take care of her. She regretted William not being there to put his hand on her swollen belly and feel their baby's movements. She recalled the hard and long birth of her son, and how she had called out William's name several times during, wanting him to come be with her through the pain.

Miss Stirhaley remembered the baby's first words and wished the Colonel was there to hear them. And, little William's first steps, and how she wanted Tavington there to hold the hand of his son and help steady him as he walked. She recollected the times that little Will had held the small portrait of William Tavington in his little hands, and would say to Karen, "Papa-Daddy!" She regretted all the times that she had lost sleep as she walked the floors with Will, wishing William was there to relieve her of this duty. His mother remembered the times that little Will was naughty, and that she wished Tavington had been there to help shoulder the burden of discipline.

She especially remembered something that had happened only days before Little Will had taken ill: Karen had pulled a box from under her bed that contained William's letters to her, most of which she had kept. She had pulled them at random that day and read them, and began to cry as she read one very romantic letter from him. Her son, who was at play just outside the door of the cabin, heard her crying. A moment later, he skipped in happily and stopped in front of her, tugging at the sleeve of her dress.

"Don't cry, Mama. Here's a flower for you", he said to her. He then handed her a single stem of beautiful purple Lilac, the scent so strong that it filled the cabin. This cheered her immediately, but amazed her as well. For William Tavington, knowing that she loved lilacs, would often pick a sprig for her and hand it to her, just as his own son little Will had just done. Like Father, like son.

Karen was grateful that William hadn't been there when their child died just hours ago. She knew that even though Tavington was a very strong and brave individual, often accused of unkindness, little Will's death would have torn him apart. Yet, like so many times before, she wished he would have been there, if only selfishly on her part, to console her through their son's death.

The graveyard was still as the first rays of light began to show themselves. Karen's mind was so dull, tired and numb that she could no longer think or remember anything. She only felt as lifeless as little Will's body was lying quietly on the grass next to her. And, she was absolutely alone. Both of the men that she loved, Colonel William Tavington of the Green Dragoons, and his child, little William Miles Tavington Stirhaley, were dead. With both Tavington men gone from her life, her spirit had departed as well.

She touched each of William's weapons, wishing she could feel his hand on hers as she did. She held her son's hand and gave it a little squeeze, then reached over her son and straightened the Saint Christopher medal that was hanging about his neck. This had been the same one Karen had given to William to wear to keep him safe in battle, retrieved from his body by General O'Hara after he had died and given back to Miss Stirhaley to keep. She had wanted to pass it on to their child and had done so.

Karen Stirhaley pulled herself to her knees and said a simple prayer. She made the Sign of the Cross on herself and prayed. "Forgive me Father, if it is fitting to do so." With this, she grasped the handle of William's dagger and unsheathed it. She took it in her right hand and lifted it to her lap. Then, without hesitation, she pulled the blade across her left wrist, cutting it deeply, and crying out in a howl of burning pain as the blade sliced into her skin, severing arteries and tendons.

She whimpered momentarily, feeling sick to her stomach, but steeled herself again. She had dropped the dagger and reached out to pick it up again. Her left hand and wrist, because of the deep slice she'd made to it, had damaged tendons and ligaments, so it wasn't working very well. As she reached over to it with her right hand to place the knife in her left and guide it to her right, she stared momentarily in disbelief at how much blood now covered her hand and was running onto her lap. She saw that the engagement ring that William had given her so many years ago, which usually sparkled as bright as a star, was now drowning in the crimson fluid as it spurted and ran uncontrollably down her hand and fingers.

She managed to guide her left hand, not having a good grip at all on the dagger, over to her right. She tried to keep the grip on the knife and turn her hand to slice her right wrist, but couldn't keep hold of the knife. So, she turned her right arm wrist down, and pulled it across the sharp blade which she had steadied edge up in her left, incapacitated hand, just good enough to do the deed Again, the slice hurt, but she only winced at this one, going only deep enough to sever the artery. She dropped the dagger on the ground between her and little Will's body, and picked up her rosary. She slipped this over her head and around her neck, the blood from her right wrist leaking onto her bodice front and into her beautiful hair. She looked once again at her lap and saw that the whole front of her dress and skirt were now stained with her own blood. And when the material was saturated and could hold no more, she saw it pooling in the grass beside her.

"Wait for me, William," she said weakly and quietly, "I'm on my way."

After a few moments, she thought that she had lost so much blood, that it was impossible that she wasn't dead yet. She grew impatient waiting for it to take her and give her peace and could wait no longer. Karen reached for William's loaded pistol, and tried to lift it. It seemed so heavy to her. She looked around and everything was a blur. She tried to get to her feet, but was too weak. Then she tried again, almost succeeded, then lost her balance and fell from her weakness. Again, she tried to stand, and was able to, but she was weaving back and forth, dizzy and lightheaded from loss of blood. She tried lifting the gun to her head, but was unable to do so from weakness and blood loss. But, she was now hallucinating and was sure that she could feel the barrel of the gun against her temple. She tried to pull the trigger back, but couldn't get it because she was getting weaker.

In a moment, though, a single pistol shot rang out and echoed across the cemetery and meadow. Karen's body fell to the grass. She tried to open her eyes, but was too weak. She could hear horses and men's voices not too far away. She forced her eyelids open and could hear the shouts of American accented men, dogs barking, and hoof beats even closer now.

She hallucinated, thinking it might be Dragoons.

"William?" She murmured.

She closed her eyes again and waited.

"It came from that direction, Sir," said a young, colonial soldier, pointing.

A group of five Colonial soldiers, on patrol, were passing by when they heard a single gunshot and decided to investigate. As the lane neared the church cemetery, they saw two people, whom they thought were vagrants or drunks, lying on the grass by some graves.

They drew closer and covered the two figures with their guns, unsure if one of them had fired the shot and might be waiting to fire another. They called to the two people, and moved in a little closer after no response.

"It's a child and a woman," exclaimed the commander, a Lieutenant. "Well, what the….." His voice trailed off as he saw a lot of blood on the woman's body. Still looking through his long glass, he said, "They're hurt badly. Let's see what we can do and maybe get them to our surgeon's tent. Rodgers, search them for identification and any documents." The small detachment followed Corporal Rodgers cautiously over to where the two people lay.

They divided up, two going to little William and the other private and Lieutenant went to Karen's aid. She was still very quiet.

"Sir, the boy's dead," observed one of the soldiers as he inspected the child's corpse.

"Yeah, he's cold", the other man added. "Probably been dead a few hours already."

"Wound? Injury?" asked the commander.

"None."

The commander seemed satisfied that this beautiful young woman hadn't hurt or killed this child, which they had assumed had happened. Standing still above Karen's body, he thought and hoped she was still alive.

"Rodgers, drop what you're doing and get back to camp now! Tell the doctor that you are bringing him a patient immediately!" He dropped to his knees and began to check her. "I think this one's still alive, though barely!"

Karen's dress, body, and the ground around her were saturated and sticky with her maroon hued blood. The Lieutenant carefully lifted her limp body up from the ground and put his cheek against hers, which was warm. Then he pressed his ear to her lips, but could neither hear nor feel a breath. He pressed on the carotid artery in her neck, but found no pulse. He asked the private to do the same. He also felt no pulse, and could not feel or hear a breath from her.

"I don't understand this!," exclaimed the commander. "She's warm and I think she's still breathing. We've got to be missing something."

A shaving mirror was soon found by one of the soldiers. It was handed to the Lieutenant, who held it under Miss Stirhaley's nose and mouth, looking for signs of that shallow breath that they kept missing.

The mirror never fogged up.

Disappointed, the commander let out a sigh and laid Karen's lifeless body back on the grass. He was quiet for an instant, staring at her in disbelief, wishing that they could have saved her. He wondered what drove the lady to this act of despair.

In another instant, he collected himself, then remembered that a rider was leaving for the camp hospital. "Don't bother," the Lieutenant called to his rider, "She's dead, too."

The group gathered around her for a moment and saw her rosary in one hand, a gun in the other. They inspected her body quickly. "No bullet wound, only the slashes on her wrist. Gun must have discharged accidentally."

"Yeah. She must have died shortly before we arrived."

Indeed, Karen Stirhaley had taken her last breath as the men were dismounting their horses to survey the scene. She had been so woozy from loss of blood that she had not been able to lift or aim the gun. Also, she didn't comprehend just how fast she was dying from the blood loss, and therefore wanted to hasten things with a gun. In reality, she couldn't even lift the gun and when she pulled the trigger, it fired up and away. She had only hallucinated feeling the gun on her temple, an extreme effect of her blood loss. And then she had fainted, falling to the ground, gun still in hand.

As the group looked around the ground and area where Karen and her son lay, they marveled at the fine weapons laid out by the boy.

"Tavington," one of the young soldiers read aloud from his gravestone.

"Hmmmm," sniffed the Lieutenant. "She picked a fitting grave to slice herself on. We called him 'the Butcher'."

"Butcher?"

"Oh, yeah, I know. The commander of that cavalry outfit!"

"Yes," affirmed the Lieutenant, pointing to the headstone. "The Green Dragoons."

"He must have killed hundreds of our soldiers and colonists!"

"Yeah, well he got what he deserved," retorted one of the soldiers as he dragged Karen's limp body away from the grave by the arms.

"Hey! There's a letter there, beneath her." The other soldier stopped dragging her long enough for the commander to retrieve the note. He used his handkerchief to wipe the blood off of the folded paper, and read aloud from it to the group:

_22 June 1784 _

_To Whomever finds this, _

_I am Karen Stirhaley. My son, William Miles Tavington Stirhaley lies next to me. He has just become three years old. He died in my arms only a few hours ago from pneumonia. I brought him out here to his Father's grave. _

_Colonel William Tavington, Commander of His Majesty's Green Dragoons was killed in battle at Cowpens 3 and a half years ago 17 January, 1781. The Colonel and I were engaged to be married. I was carrying his child, this boy, when he was slain. _

_Although the Colonel gained a deplorable reputation as a butcher of men, I still loved him deeply. I was close enough to see a side of him that others didn't see. To me, he was, for the most part, a kind and loving man who protected me. _

_I only wish he could have known his son. He would have loved him and been proud. I know he would have been a nurturing Father. And, I believe, that having a child of his own would have helped him to better understand the precious value of human life, and may have helped him change his bitter way. I am thankful that William wasn't here to see his son die. It would have broken his heart. _

She then gave the address and a short description of where to find her cabin, and some instructions. Then the letter continued:

_There you will find my possessions and letters to my family. The caretaker of the plantation and his daughter will know what to do with them. _

_As for our bodies, please bury us here next to William, so that we may lie in Peace together as a family. If this is not possible, then please dispose of our remains however you see fit. _

_Of the three of us, I am the last one remaining and I am terribly lonely. I have missed my William so since he died 3 ½ years ago, and now, the death of my little Will has shattered my already broken heart, wounded my soul deeply, and killed all will to live. I no longer have the spirit within me to carry on without my two Tavington men, so, I now leave this world. _

_Thank you for the kindness and burden of attending to our bodies. _

_I pray that my family and friends will understand what I have done, forgive me, and get on with their lives. I can only hope that the Lord is a kind and merciful God, and that He will forgive mine and William Tavington's awful and numerous sins, especially this one that I now commit. _

_May God always be with you, _

_Karen _

The group of young soldiers was silent for a moment, failing to understand why this beautiful lady would take her own life, even after hearing her letter. But their commander, a man in his thirties who had experienced life, sighed aloud and felt pity for her. For now, he understood. Life, though beautiful and precious, was a unique war in itself. One could fight valiantly and triumph over anything one moment, and be beaten into submission by it the next. It was obvious to the Lieutenant that Miss Stirhaley had won her share of battles, but, the tide had turned on her recently, so she had given up and surrendered peacefully and willingly to death. She crossed the boundary of life and belonged now to God.

_Last night he came to me, my dead love came in _

_So softly he came that his feet made no din _

_As he laid his hand on me, this he did say _

'_It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day." _

_-"Our Wedding Day" an old Irish ballad _

_Lyrics from Songs of the People, Sam Henry _

_**THE END**_


	36. Follow up and notes

8/10/2009

If you have not done so yet, please take a moment to look at the beautiful illustration done by a fan for this story. It depicts the scene with Karen and Tavington (well, his recently deceased body-[sniffle-weeps] ) from Chapter 33 "The Bitter End". It is a fantastic, spectacular rendering and depicted exactly as I have written it. The painting may make you cry more than the story!

/art/You-can-t-go-yet-You-can-t-60104822 _sorry in previewing this it isn't taking the link, so see below:_

**If for some reason this link doesn't show up here,(sometimes Fan fiction dot net does not let you print links) I think you can find it on my profile page here or go to the website "Deviant Art", in the 'search' type in "Lepipsqueak", it will bring you to her collection, then scroll down to a picture called "you can't go yet, you can't" and this is it. You shouldn't be able to miss it, just look for the RevWar era woman holding Tav in her arms, she is looking at him and crying. You'll find it! Enjoy!**

6/29/2009

Due to overwhelming response, there may be an "alternative ending" to this story in the future. So many readers, though they enjoyed the story with the tragic ending, have requested a happy, positive alternative ending. All I can say is stay tuned and watch. I'm in the middle of another Tav/Bordfic with yet another one in planning stages after that, so it may be a few weeks to a few months. Thanks for the overwhelming response and support!

JScorpio

Author: The Boundary (complete)

Author: Bordon's Girl (complete)

Author: The Pacifist's Daughter (in progress)

Author: A Question Of Allegiance (planning/outline stages)

**Notes and insight into Boundary's (and "The Patriot" movie's) two main dragoon officers:**

_Colonel William Tavington: _Most people who watched the movie got the impression that he was an ambitious, rotten to the core villain. And, some staunch fanfiction readers think that to portray him as anything other than that in fanfiction is considered OOC. I can understand that. In the movie we see him portrayed this way. However, looking at the character closely especially during scenes in which he is berated by his superior officers, you see subtle pain and disappointment in Tavington by the look in his eyes, facial expression, how his head is held, and body/head motion and I think you can hear a slight bit of underlying feelings in his words back to whom he converses with. Since those actions are silent and subtle enough that they could be missed, I think this may be the reason why he comes across to so many as one (or two) dimensionally mean and rotten. My take on the movie's Tavington was that he is a an ambitious, glory driven villain with feelings he wouldn't readily show professionally (or on duty) and only share with those closest to him.

When I released first version of this story years ago, fanfic reviewer 'JustDuck' wrote in Dec. 2003 of Tavington in 'The Boundary' (see "Reviews" for this story): "_The fact that you wrote Tavington not as a saint or complete sinner made quite an impression.'Villians' are either completely demonized or turned into misunderstood saints. This (how you portrayed him here) was a perfect balance." _She has 'hit the nail on the head' as to how I've portrayed Tavington here in this story. So, if you're looking for total over the top evil Tavington here, then you would consider my Tav as OOC and this may not be for you. Anyway, this is my interpretation of his personal life not shown in the movie.

_Captain Bordon--movie & book name-no first name given:_ Boundary knows him as "Major Miles Bordon". Bordon has been brevetted from Captain to Major for this story, which I am told by Legion historians that brevets did happen often with officers at that time.

I am still surprised by the number of people (in comments on various online sites) who wanted more of Bordon in the movie, sorry that he wasn't more developed as a character. I was intrigued as well.

In the movie, Bordon's not given much time or development. From what we see, he seems to be articulate and adheres to his place as Tavington's second in command. We are also left to think that he may be the one who strong armed and subsequently killed rebel Rollins' companion in the cabin scene during an off screen interrogation, leading us to think that he conforms to villainy as well. The look on his face when he is going at Gabriel in the "revenge by the creek scene" is one of determination and sheer anger. In contrast, he is seen briefly in the Middleton Place party scene (with Captain Wilkins) as smiling and chatting/flirting with some pretty girls. Another scene alludes to the articulate part, pointing to him as educated, in being the lone interpreter for the Cherokee scouts that find the wounded private.

The Patriot's movie companion novel by Robert Rodat seems to portray him as a smart articulate brute dutifully taking orders and not above participating in the "ugliness" of war.

Boundary paints him as the friendly, smart, helpful, and sympathetic aide-de-camp that dutifully follows orders. He tolerates but doesn't necessarily like some of Tavington's 'methods'. He is often the officer left to "smooth things over" or "clean up the mess" (either Tavington's or some rowdy cavalrymen). I think I must have wanted to give Bordon good and friendliness to balance out Tav's harshness and mean actions here in this story. I've given the second in command a background and personal life, as well.

Hope you will enjoy _my interpretations_ (maybe not 'the gospel') of Tavington and Bordon.


	37. Research Sources and Bibliography

**Historical and Writing resources: Primary and Secondary**

**Books:**

Ammer, Christine The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms  Boston Houghton Mifflin 1997

Babits, Lawrence E. A Devil Of a Whipping: The Battle of Cowpens Chapel Hill, NC The University of North Carolina Press 1998

Bakeless, John Background to Glory: The Life of George Rogers Clark Philadelphia J.B. Lippincott 1957

Bass, Robert D. The Green Dragoon  Orangeburg, NC Henry Holt & Co. Sandlapper Publishing 1957

Berkin, Carol Revolutionary Mothers: Women In The Struggle For America's Independence New York Random House 2005

Bicheno, Hugh Rebels and Redcoats, The American Revolutionary War  London Harper Collins 2003

Buchanan, John The Road to Guilford Courthouse, the American Revolution in the Carolinas Canada John Wiley and Sons 1997

Carstens, Kenneth C. and Nancy S. editors , et al The Life of George Rogers Clark, 1752-1818 Triumphs and Tragedies Westport, CT Praeger Publishers 2004

Cleland, John Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure London 1748

Earle, Alice Morse Home Life in Colonial Days New York Grosset and Dunlap 1898

Grose, Frances 1785 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue London 1785 This edition 1971 by Digest Books Northfield, Il

Hawke, David Freeman Everyday Life in Early America New York Harper & Row 1988

Kalman, Bobbie 18th Century Clothing  New York Crabtree Publishing Co. 1993

Lederer, Jr, Richard M. Colonial American English  Essex, CT Verbatim 1985

Martin, Joseph Plum Private Yankee Doodle United States Little, Brown & Co. 1962

Moss, Kay A Backcountry Herbal Gastonia, NC Schiele Museum 1993

Moss, Kay K. Southern Folk Medicine 1750-1820 Columbia, SC University of South Carolina Press 1999

Scoggins, Michael C. Relentless Fury The Revolutionary War In The Southern Piedmont  Rock Hill, SC Culture And Heritage Museums 2006

Scotti, Jr. ,Anthony J. Brutal Virtue: The Myth and Reality of Banastre Tarleton Westminster, MD Heritage Books 1995

Seifert, Shirley Waters of the Wilderness  New York J.B. Lippincott Co. 1941

Tarleton, Sir Banastre  A History Of The Campaigns Of 1780 And 1781, In The Southern Provinces Of North America London Cadell 1787

Taylor, Dale The Writer's Guide To Everyday Life In Colonial America From 1607-1783  Cincinnati Writer's Digest Books 1997

Thom, James Alexander From Sea to Shining Sea New York Ballantine Books 1984

Thom, James Alexander Long Knife  New York Ballantine Books 1979

Tierney, Tom Colonial And Early American Fashions Minneola, NY Dover Publications 1999

Walker, Niki Colonial Women New York Crabtree Publishing 2003

Wilbur, C. Keith The Revolutionary Soldier 1775-1783 Guilford, CT Globe Pequot Press 1969

Wood, W. J. Battles of the Revolutionary War 1775-1781 Chapel Hill, NC Algonquin Books 1990

**DVDs/TV Series:**

Battlefield Detectives: The American Revolution—Battle of Cowpens Series producer David Wasson Directed and Produced by David Wright History Television Network Productions for A&E Television Networks 2004

Brad Meltzer's Decoded: The President's Inner Circle-The Culper Spy Ring Go Go Luckey Productions for A&E Television Networks 2011

Frontier Legends of the Old Northwest: The Long Knives  Directed and Produced by Gary Foreman and Native Sun Productions for The History Channel/A&E Television Networks 1998

Lewis And Clark: Great Journey West Directed and produced by Karen Goodman and Kirk Simon for National Geographic 2003

The American Revolution Lisa Bergoujian director Greystone Productions for A&E Television Networks 1994

The Crossing Director Robert Harmon Based on the novel by Howard Fast, perf. Jeff Daniels A&E Television Networks 2000

The Frontier: Decisive Battles—Kings Mountain Directed and produced by Gary Foreman Native Sun Productions for the History Channel/A&E Television networks 2000

The Real George Washington National Geographic Productions Directed and produced by Tucker Bowen 2008

The Revolution Alexander Emmert and Peter Schnall directors Partisan Pictures for the History Channel 2007

The Revolutionary War Carol Fleischer Director Real TV Inc for The Learning Channel 1995

The XY Factor: Sex in the American Revolution Producer: Brian Coughlin Director Craig Haffner Greystone Communications for The History Channel A&E Television Networks 2001

Washington's Generals Cosgrove/Meurer Productions for The History Channel Robert M. Wise Director Raymond Bridgers Producer 2006

Washington The Warrior  Cosgrove/Meurer Productions for The History Channel Robert M. Wise Director Raymond Bridgers Producer 2006

**Websites:**

. Buchan's Domestic Medicine 1785 edition

. Brigadier General George Rogers Clark's Memoir of the Illinois Campaign 1779

. Major Joseph Bowman's field diary kept during the Illinois Campaign 1779

. Governor Henry Hamilton's journal from the Northwest Territory 1778-1781

sc-links/ John Robertson American Revolution Website

. #colonialfare

. The American Revolution in the Carolinas

/ The Merriam-Webster online Dictionary and Thesaurus

The Etymology Online Dictionary

Memoirs and Letters of Frederika Von Riedesil during the American Revolution Harvard University Library on line

**Research: Places Visited**

_Battlefields and Forts:_

Blackstocks Plantation site, South Carolina

Camden Battlefield, South Carolina

Cowpens National Battlefield, South Carolina

Fort 96, South Carolina

Fort Knox II, Knox County, Indiana

Fort Moultrie, South Carolina

Fort Quiatenon, Indiana

Fort Sumter, South Carolina

George Rogers Clark National Historical Park, home of Fort Sackville and battle, Vincennes, IN

Gettysburg National Battlefield, Pennsylvania

Gloucester Point, Virginia

Guilford Courthouse National Battlefield, North Carolina

King's Mountain National Battlefield, South Carolina

Musgrove Mill Farm Battlefield, South Carolina

Perryville Battlefield, Kentucky

Yorktown National Battlefield, Virginia

_Historic Homes:_

Ashlawn/Highland, Virginia

Biltmore Mansion, North Carolina

Cairnton, Tennessee

Carter's Grove Plantation, Virginia

Clark's Point Cabin, Indiana

Drayton Hall, South Carolina

Grouseland Mansion, Indiana

Hampton Plantation, South Carolina

Historic Brattonsville, South Carolina

Kershaw Cornwallis Home, South Carolina

Lincoln Boyhood Home National Park, Indiana

Locust Grove Plantation, Kentucky

Magnolia Plantation, South Carolina,

Middleton Place, South Carolina

Monticello, Virginia

Montpelier Plantaion, Virginia

Mount Vernon, Virginia

Mulberry Hill, former land for Clark homestead, Kentucky

The Hermitage, Tennessee

Walnut Grove Plantation, South Carolina

_Historic Buildings:_

Dobbin House Tavern, Pennsylvania

Michie Tavern, Virginia

Provost Dungeon, South Carolina

_Historic Places:_

Asheville, North Carolina

Cave Country, Kentucky

Charles Towne Landing, South Carolina

Chimney Rock, North Carolina

Conner Prairie Historical Park, Indiana

Edisto Island, South Carolina

Hendersonville, North Carolina

Historic Downtown Charleston, South Carolina

Historic Jamestown, Virginia

Historic Lexington, Virginia

Historic Vincennes, Indiana

Historic Williamsburg, Virginia

Kiawah Island, South Carolina

Louisville, Kentucky

Sullivan Island, South Carolina

UVA Military Institute, Virginia

Washington, DC, Virginia

_Museums:_

(see above museums with various homes, forts, battlefields)

Indiana State Museum, Indiana

Museum of Westward Expansion/St. Louis Arch, Missouri

Smithsonian Museums, Washington, DC

**Various Historical Sources and events**

(reenactments, etc, people)

Illinois Regiment of Virginia Reenactors, Midwest Unit

John Robertson, South Carolina

Marg Baskin, South Carolina

David Hast, Michigan

Clark March sponsored by George Rogers Clark National Historical Park, Indiana

Vincennes Rendezvous, annual gathering and reenactment, Indiana

Feast of the Hunter's Moon annual gathering and reenactment, Indiana


End file.
